Bachelor Pad: Glee Edition
by Nijuu
Summary: The New Directions have just won Nationals, and Mr. Schue has decided to reward them with a vacation. But what happens when their dream trip takes a wrong turn, with almost sinister implications? Can the New Directions survive even more cut-throat competition, this time against each other? Takes place around the end of season 3. Finchel, Klaine, Samcedes, Brittana, Tike ships.
1. Jet Plane

**A/N:**

So I realize Glee is over and has been for years, but I recently started rewatching it and wanted to read some fanfiction for it. I wanted to read something funny and random but couldn't find anything that really fit the bill, so I decided to write my own.

The Bachelor Pad plot is one I've used 4 1/2 times already, for each generation of my original characters, so all I did was transplant the Glee kids into that world and it practically wrote itself. So this is the 6th time I've written a "Bachelor Pad" story and I wanted to keep it consistent with how I wrote it all the other times. That being said, it might not make a ton of sense sometimes lol.

I know the only people who will find this are people who are just browsing fanfiction . net for Glee stories because they still love the characters. So this is for you guys.

Haven't been on ffnet in the last 7 years also btw... Is xD still a thing?

I don't own Glee, Bachelor Pad, or any of the television shows that might be mentioned or simulated throughout the story. (Obviously if you've ever watched Bachelor Pad this might make more sense. If not, congrats on the brain cells you saved, for real.)

This takes place between seasons 3 and 4, before Finn and Rachel break up, because that's all I've rewatched. Nothing beyond that exists for me at this point.

Finchel, Klaine, Samcedes, Brittana, and Tike are the ships. Some Quick if you squint I guess.

**Bachelor Pad: Glee Edition**

The Dayton International Airport doors slid open as a motley gaggle of recent high school graduates wandered through, attracting a few stares at their bright, unique clothes. They looked decidedly out of place; they were out of place. They were from Lima, after all.

"This is going to be so exciting!" the group's self-proclaimed leader declared, clasping her hands together in delight and looking around the inside of the airport in amazement. "Isn't this the best graduation present ever, Finn?"

"Yeah," the other teen agreed with a tepid smile. "I mean, winning Nationals was pretty awesome, too."

"Still, it was so nice of Mr. Schue to send us all on a vacation as a reward!" Tina chimed in, beaming.

"Nice, and a little suspicious…" Quinn couldn't help but add, Artie nodding in solemn agreement.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Blaine inquired.

"That's just it, he won't tell us!" Rachel enthused in reply, and her smile slipped when she realized this did sound, in fact, very suspicious. After a brief pause, Kurt stepped in.

"We should probably stop standing in front of the door, guys."

The group arrived at the check-in desk, and Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Excuse me, we're the McKinley High Glee Club?" she spoke in proper nouns, her tone as if they were very well-known. The attendant just raised a skeptical eyebrow. "We're here to pick up our boarding passes. Everything should be paid for already." She gave Finn an indulgent smile.

"Destination?"

Finn and Rachel looked at each other. "Uh, we don't know. It's a surprise," Finn told the attendant with a clueless nod.

"Airline?" The pair exchanged worried glances again, and the attendant sighed. "Are you…are you at least departing today?"

"Yes!" Kurt answered brightly, happy to be of help. The attendant began typing resignedly.

"Maybe we should just wait for Mr. Schue to get here," Mercedes advised with caution, and the others turned to her. "For all we know, he and Ms. Pillsbury might have our tickets already."

"True, but where should we meet?" Rachel wondered, and Santana just shook her head and took out her cell phone, texting Will Schuester like it was in fact the twenty-first century. As she did, another airport attendant approached them.

"Excuse me, are you the McKinley High Glee Club?" he asked, and Rachel strode forward, straightening her posture and putting on a winsome smile.

"Why yes, we are!"

"These are for you," he said, and handed them an envelope before taking off. Inside were an assortment of boarding passes for their flight.

Mercedes nodded. "See, I told you Mr. Schue had it under control!"

"Uh, in case you didn't notice, that guy wasn't Mr. Schue," Sam felt the need to inform her.

"He probably paid some guy to make us feel like VIP," Rachel surmised, and Kurt mumbled something along the lines of "Of course you think that," while she headed off. "Let's go to our gate!"

"Speaking of payment, how in the world did McKinley High get the funds for this?" Puck asked, looking at his boarding pass upside-down for a beat before flipping it over. "There's no way we made enough from Nationals to afford a trip like this, just for us."

"Yeah, most of the money would go to something way more important, that probably actually has something to do with the school or education," Artie agreed.

Before Santana could reply, Brittany interjected, "Holy crap, this says we get our own private jet?!"

Understandably, every single person first looked at their ticket to confirm if what Brittany said was true and not some ill-informed fantasy, then erupted into cheers and exclamations of joy. Puck and Artie's concern was immediately forgotten.

At the gate, no one was there except them, confirming the private jet theory. "We really _are_ getting the VIP treatment! It's like we're actually famous!" Rachel gushed.

Santana finally snapped out of her daydream and said, "Oh yeah, Mr. Schue texted me back and said he's running late. He and Ms. Pillsbury had to stop and get gas, but they should be right behind us." A few people nodded, but mostly her comment went ignored as people continued to delight over the private jet and newly established fame.

Kurt eventually calmed down as well and said, "So, I noticed we only have fourteen tickets here." He held up the extra one and looked around. "Do you think it's for Mr. Schue?"

"But, then that would mean Ms. Pillsbury wouldn't be going…?" Tina mused.

"Or, maybe they have their passes already, and this one is…extra?" Mike folded his arms in thought.

"If that's the case, is someone else coming with us?" Sam looked at everyone. "I mean, this is pretty much everybody in our glee club, all the regulars anyway. I doubt-"

Just then, a high-pitched scream emitted from behind them, and they all turned with varying degrees of trepidation. "Oh my god, guys! You get to go on the trip with_ me!"_

Sugar Motta raised her hands above her head in rapture, then ran towards them while they stared on in fear. "Oh god no," was all that was uttered.

**Chapter One: Jet Plane**

Puck dropped his head back against the seat in the waiting area. "How is Mr. Schue still not here? Did he stop for gas in Indiana or something?"

Quinn smiled at him gently. "Well, it's not like our flight is boarding yet. There's still time-" The attendant picked up the mic and announced the boarding of their flight. "Or, well…I hope he gets here soon."

"_That's _our plane?!" Santana blurted out, glaring out the window as the others joined her. Their "private jet plane" was apparently nothing more than a hollowed-out heap of scrap metal with two off-kilter wings that truthfully didn't even look the same length.

Puck smirked in approval. "Now _that's _more like what I'd expect from McKinley."

"It's beautiful," Brittany whispered, while by her side Rachel was near to tears.

Finn wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Well, look on the bright side! It may not be the most glamorous thing, but-" Some piece of the plane fell to the Tarmac, unidentified but likely important. "Okay I'm scared."

"No, Finn's right!" Blaine cheerily replied. "As long as it gets us from point A to point B, we have nothing to worry about!"

"But that's just it, Blaine!" Kurt cut in. "I don't think that contraption _can_ get us from A to B! We're all going to die in a horrific crash before I've even had a chance to become a legendary success in New York!" Rachel burst into tears at the sound of this, and Blaine looked contrite. "Face it, that plane is a death trap. Honestly, I…" Kurt glanced at his ticket again. "I'm not sure I even want to get on that thing."

"You mean you don't think we should go?" Tina asked, as the call resounded again for boarding.

"But…vacation," Brittany murmured, crestfallen.

"We came all this way," Mercedes started up, taking a step forward. "Look, Kurt, I get that you're scared. A _lot_ of us have never flown on a plane before."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Have you seen that thing? This has nothing to do with being a first-time fl-"

"But if it goes down, we all go down together, at least." Mercedes shrugged, and everyone stared in horror at her morbid conclusion. "Well, except Mr. Schue. Where is that guy?"

"I'm with Lady Hummel on this one," Santana sighed, strolling over to them. "As tempting as a vacation with all you ingrates is, it's not worth losing my life over. I have too much to live for to go down in a fiery plume with _you guys_ being the last ones I see before I meet my untimely end." She scowled and sashayed back over to the window.

Rachel drew in a shaky breath, then squared her shoulders. "No, I agree with Mercedes."

Finn gaped at her. "You think it's fine if we die as long as we-?!"

"No! I mean…I agree with Blaine!" she finally decided. "And besides…Mr. Schue wouldn't have booked us this trip if he just wanted us to die on the way there, would he? We have to trust him. We always have, up until now, and look where it's gotten us?" The group all looked at each other, and she took Finn's hand. "As long as we're together, we can do anything."

"Even survive that?" Santana looked again at the plane, but the final boarding call came over the PA. "Ugh, fine. Let's just go!" They all headed down the jet bridge, except for Puck, who boarded 10 minutes ago.

The plane was even worse inside. It was small and cramped and had seemingly no AC running. It took them all several minutes just to get Artie's wheelchair situated before they could take their own seats.

"This is my first time in an airplane…" Finn admitted to Rachel, who gave him an uneasy smile back. "How about you?"

"Yes, although I never expected it to be quite like this…" One of the overhead compartments fell open of its own accord as she looked around.

"Maybe taking a bus to Nationals all those times was actually a blessing in disguise," Mercedes grumbled, edging into the seat behind them as Sam took his spot beside her.

"It's still exciting to be getting out of Lima," he added. "Hopefully Mr. Schue is taking us somewhere exotic and not like, Dallas or something."

"Speaking of, is he still not here yet?" Kurt looked down the aisle towards the front of the plane, Santana nearly braining him with her carry-on in the process. "This plane could leave at any minute."

Santana gave him one of her trademark evil smiles that betrayed absolutely nothing. "Relax, this plane wouldn't leave without him. They're probably calling him over the PA in the airport right now. 'Last call for William Schuester,'" she snickered.

"And Ms. Pillsbury, don't forget," Brittany chirped.

But even as they waited, their teachers never boarded, and the hatch closed. The pilot began making opening remarks, and the glee students once again looked at each other in surfacing confusion. The plane was beginning to taxi away from the jet bridge when Finn finally stood up, banging his head on the overhead cabins.

"Um, excuse me!" he called to the stewardess, who regarded him with a blank smile. "We're still waiting on a couple of people, could you…hold the plane for a few minutes?"

"I'm sorry, but if we're to depart on schedule, we have to leave now," was her bland reply, and Finn grasped for something to say. Rachel kicked him in the shin impatiently.

"Ow- please, they'll be here any second now. Oh- Look! I think I see them now!" He pointed emphatically at the plane's door, which was of course closed and revealed no view of the jet bridge, much less anyone rushing towards them. The stewardess didn't look, and instead told Finn to take his seat before walking off.

Rachel sulked at him and he just shrugged. "I tried."

Blaine smiled reassuredly at them from his seat across the aisle. "They'll just have to put them on another flight. We won't be on our own for very long." He turned to Kurt on his other side. "Though wouldn't it be fun to go somewhere unsupervised, without teachers? It would feel more like a vacation and less like a…school trip."

"That's true," Kurt breathed nervously. "But it could be dangerous without any adults."

"Well, maybe if this were _Lord of the Flies_…"

"With the way this plane is looking, it probably will be," Artie chimed in unhelpfully as they rumbled across the Tarmac.

"Not to mention we don't even know where we're going!" someone in the back panicked momentarily.

Blaine found he had no reply, so just beamed at Kurt again. "It'll be fine."

The engine roared to life with an unsettling groan, causing a few people to shriek in fear or excitement. Kurt was white-knuckling the armrest with his already pale hand, and Blaine set his own over it. "Are you alright?"

"Is it supposed to sound like that?" he managed in a thin voice, but Blaine just shook his head knowingly.

"I remember the first time I was in a plane. It can be a pretty nerve-wracking experience."

"Was it really anything like this though?!" Santana leaned around the seat to shout at him as the engine screeched and sent them forward with a rumble and grating that made it feel as if the plane were dragging itself across the asphalt rather than rolling.

Blaine looked up in thought. "Admittedly no, but-"

There was a severe jolt as if they'd run over something, and everyone called out in shock, grabbing whatever they could to stabilize themselves. "We're not even off the ground yet," Puck noted with a glance out the window, and Quinn rested her head back and resumed praying.

They accelerated down the runway and miraculously made it into the sky, which had everyone clapping until the plane tilted drastically to the side and they were back to screaming.

Finally they leveled out, and Blaine turned to Kurt. "See, was that so bad?"

Kurt was silent, then blinked. "I'm sorry, what? My life was flashing before my eyes."

"You're infuriatingly optimistic, you know," Santana groused at Blaine. "Even Finn has given up." Indeed, the former quarterback was ashen with fear.

Rachel stood grandly and turned to her friends, snapping Finn out of his funk. "Whoa Rachel, it's way too early to be taking off your seat belt," he reminded her, but she strode down the aisle anyway.

"Well, I think it's about time we broke into songs about flying or air travel. We are the Glee Club after all. Any requests for me?"

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow!" Kurt immediately brightened.

"I think Tom Petty has one about flying…" Finn contributed with an easy smile.

"Freebird!" someone (Puck) shouted.

"Can't we just ride in peace?" Quinn said under her breath, and Mercedes uncharacteristically agreed with her. "Yeah Rachel, we just cheated death, so I'd like a little quiet time instead of listening to you belt out something irrelevant from Broadway. Sorry Kurt."

Rachel hmphed and turned to Sam. "Then Sam, you sing something. Your tastes are much more…pedestrian. Maybe that would please the masses."

Sam raised an eyebrow, unsure of whether to be offended, but eventually pulled his guitar from nowhere and fired up John Denver's _Leaving on a Jet Plane_. The masses were appeased and some even joined in. Will would've been proud.

A few more rounds of fogey, even-more-irrelevant-than-Broadway classic rock songs about flying had Rachel asleep, and there were high-fives all around.

"Is it weird to anyone else that we have no idea how long this flight is?" Mike posed.

"Or when we'll touch down. We might almost be there for all we know!" Sugar peppily agreed. They were not almost there.

Tina looked out the window but it was just clouds. And one of the plane wings didn't look right so she promptly closed the cover. "I think our best bet would be if we all went to sleep. Then we'll be sure to have energy if we do land."

"Did you just say 'if'?!" Santana asked hastily, and they all agreed they should go to sleep before another bout of panic set in.

The aircraft did make it to the ground, and Blaine was standing at the front of the plane as everyone came around. "Come on, we're here!"

"Did you sleep?" Kurt asked, rubbing his eyes.

"_Do _you sleep?" Santana added in a wary tone.

Finn stood, hit his head a second time, and shuffled out with Rachel. "Do we know where we are yet?"

"Have you heard anything from Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked Santana, who shook her head. They disembarked from the plane with their luggage and stepped out into insufferable humidity.

"God, I thought the plane was bad, what with the no AC and all," Puck grumbled, pulling his T-shirt from his damp body. "Where the hell is this, Thailand?"

"Please don't be Thailand," Artie pleaded, rolling down the jet bridge with the others.

Tina, Mike, Sugar, Puck and Brittany went to procure airport rations for everyone, while Blaine, Finn, Kurt and Rachel went in search of some kind of map. Santana, Mercedes, Artie, Quinn and Sam hung back to await a reply from Mr. Schue.

"Why don't you just call him?" Sam asked finally, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Because Guppyface, if we _are_ in Thailand, a phone call to the US would cost me like, a million dollars. All we can do is wait for a reply to come through, if he answered while we were on the plane."

"You probably won't get a reply any time soon," Rachel came back with the others, sighing loudly. "There's apparently a huge storm coming."

"Explains the humidity," Blaine said to his hair, which had doubled in size and volume since they arrived.

Santana clicked her tongue and lowered her phone. "You're right, I'm not getting a signal at all."

Finn looked at everyone carefully. "Guys…this is kind of bad."

"Why, because we're stuck in the middle of nowhere, separated from our adult supervisors who planned this trip with no way to contact them and an apparently giant tropical storm moving into the area?!" Kurt shrieked, and Finn recoiled.

"Dude, chill…but yes."

"You _did_ find out where we are, didn't you?" Mercedes pressed.

"Yes, it's a remote island in the Caribbean, part of some larger group of islands," Rachel waved it off, beginning to pace.

"So it's safe," Blaine reassured them. "Or…inhabited at least."

"We think," Finn added unhelpfully.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that thing made it across the _ocean?" _Santana jerked a thumb back towards the plane, and Kurt paled into sheer white at the thought.

Just then, the food squad returned with burgers and fries in tow. The others updated them on the situation as food was dispersed, and they started walking at Artie's prompting. "We might be able to get a signal if we move through the airport, who knows."

"What about a hotspot," Brittany spoke up tonelessly.

"Yes, Brittany, it is extremely hot in here, thanks for the reminder," Artie snapped, desperate to remove his wool cardigan. "But I don't think this is a geographical hotspot."

"Wait, are you talking about like, volcanoes?" Sam asked, wide-eyed.

"What?!" Rachel screeched at the sound of more impending danger. "Are we cursed?"

Quinn waited until the expected panic and misunderstanding blew over, then said, "I think what Brittany is talking about is a mobile hotspot."

"Oh so volcanoes move now." Sam stopped walking, clearly angry to learn this.

"You know, like Wi-Fi?" she stopped as well and faced him. "It wouldn't help with the phone signal, but we'd at least be able to contact Mr. Schue. Like, through e-mail."

"E-mail?" Puck pronounced, as if she'd made it up. She turned to him, but Santana held her hand up.

"Wait I've got a signal right here!" She held her phone up like in the movies and walked around, watching the bars climb from one to two, and eventually three. She was standing on top of a dolphin structure in the middle of a fountain when Will's replies started coming in. "I've got it!"

"Awesome! Just…be careful."

They all watched as her phone dinged repeatedly, and with each message that came in, her expression morphed from surprise to confusion and eventually, fear.


	2. Tropical Nightmare

**Chapter Two: Tropical Nightmare**

"What does it say?!" Rachel finally erupted, and Santana descended from the dolphin statue with grace, her Cheerios skirt flipping idly.

"It's probably better that you see for yourself," the girl replied dryly, tossing her phone to Rachel before striding off. Everyone crowded around Rachel as she scrolled back to the top of the thread.

_Still on our way, Emma and I had to stop and get gas. Be there soon!_

_Okay, we're at the airport. Parking now._

_At the main entrance. Where are you guys? I have all your tickets with me._

_Call me. I'm heading for the gate._

_Did you guys leave?_

Everyone stepped back and regarded the messages in their own time. "There are so many things wrong with what I just read," Artie spoke up first.

"Yeah, texting and driving? Hello?" Quinn turned her palm up critically.

"He has our tickets…" Finn breathed, and Rachel looked up at him worriedly.

"So the ones we took were…" Blaine turned to Kurt for an explanation, but he was staring into the distance, frozen.

"We're not…on Mr. Schue's trip," Tina concluded. "We're somewhere else completely. It explains the sketchy plane."

"Also explains the random guy that handed us the tickets," Sam brought up with a touch of stubborn pride, glaring at Mercedes.

"B-but they said it was for McKinley High's Glee Club!" Rachel leapt to her own defense.

"So then it was a set-up!" Kurt yelled at her, covering his mouth in fear.

"Wait, we have to call Mr. Schue, now! While we have a signal," Artie got them back on track. "He'll still be in Dayton because he wouldn't have left without us." He snatched the phone from Rachel when she began to cry in self-pity, and dialed Mr. Schue.

It rang about 9 times before someone finally picked up. _"Santana?"_

"Mr. Schue!" Artie cried, everyone chorusing with him in relief. "Thank god. W-we got on the wrong flight and we don't know where we are and-"

"_Hang on," _Will's voice ebbed in and out as he spoke. _"Artie, is that you? Where are you guys?"_

"We're lost, help!" Kurt shrieked, and Blaine drew him away, as he was not helping at all.

"Someone gave us phony tickets, and we don't know where we ended up but-" Finn stopped when Will interrupted.

"_Guys, I can b…ly hear you. The sig…"_

"No!" Artie shouted, and Brittany nabbed the phone from his grasp and began to clamber atop the dolphin in the fountain. But it was too late, and the phone's screen said "Signal lost," the call dropped.

"_Nnnnnnoooooooo!" _Kurt yelled to the heavens, falling to his knees. Rachel swooned to the floor by his side and buried her face in her arms, sobbing piteously.

"Are you guys for real?" Puck asked.

"_We are going to die out here!"_ Rachel hissed at him, sounding possessed.

"Guys, no we're not," Blaine laughed hopelessly. "Let's just get up, first-" He dragged Kurt to his feet. "-and go to the counter and get tickets back home! Then we'll go from there."

At the nearest counter, Blaine asked for tickets back to Ohio. "For… fourteen of you?" the man asked, and Blaine nodded. A few moments later, he said, "Okay, that will be $6,622."

"...Oh I forgot about that part."

They regrouped in a nearby Starbucks, which they were all surprised to see in this area of tropical Mexico. "The storm is getting worse," Quinn commented with a glimpse at the window.

"Where do you think we're supposed to go now?" Sugar asked. "Normally Mr. Schue would've had hotel arrangements, but whoever sent us here…"

"Whoever sent us here expected us to die on that plane," Finn announced, and everyone was shocked and saddened to realize that was the truth. "There are no arrangements waiting for us here."

"Who do you think set this up, anyway?" Mercedes asked purely out of curiosity. "You don't think it was like, Carmel High or something?"

"Jesse wouldn't do that," Rachel answered hastily, despite no longer being the expert on the matter.

"Well who else hates us this much?" Tina asked, as if the list wasn't a mile long.

"Maybe that jerk from Dalton Academy?" Sam asked, and Kurt reflexively lowered his coffee and looked over Blaine's shoulder, as if Sebastian would materialize into view at the mere mention.

But Blaine shook his head. "No way, we made up, remember?"

Finn dropped his head into his hands. "We'll never figure it out. Let's just find a place to stay for the night and then…"

"What, work on our street-walking techniques?" Santana suggested with a sneer. "It's the only way we can get that much money in time."

"Well, if that's what it comes down to…" Sam began to concede, and Mercedes slapped his arm disapprovingly.

Brittany set her phone in her lap and looked up. "Guys, Mr. Schue is coming here."

Everyone stared at her emptily. "I'm sorry what?" Kurt shook his head.

"I contacted him over the Wi-Fi? Like I was talking about earlier." Everyone took a moment to feel shameful for ignoring Brittany. "I gave him the airport code and he said he's on his way. He'll get us out of this." Several sighs of relief and gratitude washed over the table. "So we just need to survive until he gets here."

"Brittany, you're a life-saver," Mike sighed, and everyone agreed while Brittany beamed self-indulgently.

Just then, a stranger approached their table and Kurt flinched, immediately on guard. "Are you the McKinley High School Glee Club?" the nondescript person asked flatly.

"We certainly a- ow!" Rachel broke off when Quinn elbowed her in the boob a little too forcefully.

"Who's asking?" Puck challenged, Sam folding his arms in an attempt at intimidation.

The person paused, unimpressed, and reached across the table and several people to hand a piece of paper to Finn, clearly recognizing him as the alpha. "That's for you," was all he said before departing.

"Don't open it!" Kurt warned him uselessly, and Finn unfolded the paper.

"It's an address."

"It's clearly the abandoned warehouse where we're to be knocked out and serial-killed one by one, photographs our mutilated bodies sent back to our parents-"

"Rachel!" Mercedes silenced her, eyes wide.

"We should go," Finn decided without explanation.

"But, didn't you say there were no arrangements here for us?" Quinn furrowed her brow.

"Maybe I was wrong. Just trust me on this." Finn stood, but no one moved a muscle. "Come on, I think I figured it out. Mr. Schue obviously set up this whole thing as like, a mystery! Like a game!" Eyebrows were raised. "Everything's been safe so far, right?"

"That plane," was all Kurt said, expressionless.

"Was…obviously just a result of McKinley's budget. Puck said so himself." Puck looked surprised to hear this. "It got us here safely, after all."

"And I'm guessing Mr. Schue missing the plane was also part of this 'game'?" Santana snarled, glaring at Finn.

"Yeah, exactly!"

Her glare deepened. "Did you smoke whatever Blaine was having on the plane? Why are you changing your tune? Five minutes ago you were as hopeless as the rest of us."

"Look, if it's a murder shack, I accept full responsibility. Don't you guys trust me?" All around the table, people shook their heads or gave an emphatic, "No." Except Rachel, who stood resolutely.

"I do." She grinned at him and he returned the look, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"I already know how this will end."

* * *

Outside, the rain and wind were starting to pick up, and once they reached the address, the downpour was torrential. Palm trees were on the verge of bending completely sideways, and thunder could be heard in the distance.

"That's it!" Finn shouted, his voice soundless over the din of the storm, but they followed his pointed finger to a beach house nestled on the coast. "Come on!"

They struggled with the locked door before Puck shoved them aside and kicked it down. Everybody scrambled inside and he slammed the door behind them, leaning against it. There was no sound except labored breathing and water from clothes dripping onto the hardwood floor. There was also no light.

Santana snapped on the light to reveal fourteen people who more closely resembled drowned rats and grimaced. "Should've left it off."

"You're not such a sight yourself," Tina returned, wringing out her hair. "What is this place?"

It was a cozy beach bungalow, the wood floors strewn with dry sand, the air tinged with the smell of seawater and salt. There was a living room and kitchen, and a set of stairs in the middle between the two. But all anyone really noticed was that it was dry and warm, and they were thankful for that.

Quinn went into the kitchen and saw another envelope on the counter. She tipped out the contents and revealed a brass key, holding it up with a tight look of disapproval.

"What a genius," Puck complained, shaking his head.

"There's a note here," she informed everyone, and they all gathered around to hear it, except Kurt who immediately went off to dry his hair and/or change clothes, and Brittany, who sat on the couch and turned on the TV.

"Welcome, McKinley Glee Club, to the BP Beach House. We thank you for the honor of your presence." Quinn arched an eyebrow as Rachel nodded solemnly at the greeting. "Well, at least we know we're in the right place."

"Still, it doesn't read like Mr. Schue," Artie noticed, and Quinn went on.

"Please make use of our amenities including a fully-stocked kitchen, outdoor pool and hot tub, and gorgeous ocean views. Have a wonderful stay." She dropped the note. "Well, that was interesting."

"I'm kind of relieved that we're not in a hotel," Tina remarked. "I mean, a beach house right by the ocean is hard to beat." She drew the blinds to reveal a sky of black clouds and churning waves. "Even if the weather is…this."

"True, at least we'll have our privacy," Mercedes said, then flushed at her own comment, avoiding Sam's gaze.

"Well, we would if Puck hadn't broken the door," Santana directed at him sassily, crossing her arms. "Now it won't lock."

"Look, I'll stay down here and keep guard until it's fixed if it makes you feel any better," Puck offered, and Santana balked at his unexpected show of good will.

"Who's going to come break in anyway?" They all turned at the sound of Kurt's voice, Rachel screaming briefly at the sight of his mud-masked face. "We're completely isolated out here."

"That's true, but better safe than sorry," Finn replied, unfazed.

"Why are you in your pajamas?" Santana asked Kurt, giving his silk ensemble a once-over.

"Because, it's almost one in the morning, guys." Everyone looked up at the clock to confirm this. "We should all be going to bed."

"Weird, why aren't I tired?" Sam asked, then remembered the black hole of time they all spent napping on the plane, followed by a coffee fix at Starbucks. Indeed, Blaine－who didn't opt for a nap earlier－was passed out at the dining table and had been for several minutes. "Oh yeah."

Kurt smiled and folded his arms. "We should probably decide rooms first. I think the bedrooms are upsta-" He was cut off by a blast of thunder as the lights shut off and soaked them in darkness, a chorus of screams following.

"Did the power just go out?" Sugar asked pointlessly.

"As if this wasn't bad enough already," someone grumbled, sounding a lot like Puck.

"Relax, let's just use our phones," a lilting voice directed them, and Quinn's phone flashlight illuminated the room. Rachel's hand flew to her chest at the sight of Kurt's face again. "You said the bedrooms are upstairs?"

They all clobbered upstairs and stood in the narrow hallway together, where seven doors branched off. "Seven rooms, perfect. We just have to pair up."

"This one only has one bed, though," Puck commented, leaning into the farthest room. "And damn, it's huge."

"Dibs," Kurt and Rachel said simultaneously, then glared at each other, reminiscent of season one.

"How many of the rooms are like that?" Artie asked, and Puck confirmed that four of the seven were. The other three had two single beds. "Okay, so couples and non-couples. That worked out perfectly."

"Good thing so many people in this club are dating already," Mike laughed.

"True, in fact…" Santana did a quick count. "We have more couples than we have queen-sized beds."

"I don't mind taking a single bed," Mercedes volunteered, to Sam's disappointment.

"Right, gotta leave room for Jesus and all that," Santana recalled, and Mercedes just glared at her. "Alright, then it's settled."

Everyone retreated into their rooms except Rachel and Kurt, who stood outside the master bedroom. Finn watched them warily, playing the mediator.

"I saw it first," was Rachel's childish and completely off-base reasoning, and Finn knew it was going to be a long night. It already was.

"Well I need the en suite for my nightly skincare routine. All you have to do is…put your hair in a braid or something," Kurt retaliated.

"Um, where's Blaine? Shouldn't he get a say in this?" Finn asked, and Kurt gasped.

"Oh my gosh I completely forgot about him."

Kurt slipped downstairs in total darkness, Finn electing to go with him. "I think he's at the dining table," Rachel whispered, creeping behind them as well.

Approaching the dining room, Kurt stubbed his foot on the slight step into the kitchen, stumbling with a curse as he caught himself. "Watch your st-" But Finn tripped magnificently over it and crashed into Kurt, knocking him down anyway. The two fell into the chairs as Rachel flailed in fright at the sudden noise, managing to overturn a lamp from a nearby table.

Once the cacophony subsided back into black silence, Finn stood and helped Kurt to his feet. Rachel shined her phone light at Blaine, still deeply asleep at the table.

"How in the hell?!" Kurt whisper-shouted, then went to his side. "Blaine, wake up." He shook him, but the man was all but unconscious. He sighed and said to Finn, "Help me carry him, I guess."

"What are you guys doing?" a voice pierced the darkness and startled them all, Rachel legitimately screaming as she flung her phone across the room towards the sound. Brittany was sitting in silence at the sofa, turned from the TV to face them.

Kurt opened and closed his mouth. "Have you been down here this whole time?" he asked, still whispering as if Rachel's scream hadn't woken the entire household.

"Yeah," Brittany shrugged.

"Doing…what?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"Watching TV." The screen was black. "Didn't you guys see the messages earlier?"

"What messages?" Rachel asked, but Kurt made a silencing motion, assuming this was another one of Brittany's Brittany-isms.

"The ones about welcoming us to this house."

"Oh, that was…the message Quinn read?" Finn gave Rachel a questioning look, but she looked confused as well.

"No, it said we should all take time to introduce ourselves. Something about dinner. And how we'd have further instructions tomorrow morning." They all gaped at her. "You guys really didn't see it?"

The trio was silent, Blaine suspended between Finn and Kurt like a rag doll. "Brittany, go to sleep," Kurt finally said, and they headed back upstairs. Brittany watched them go wordlessly.


	3. Vacation Time

**A/N: **Here's chapter 3, hope you guys are enjoying. Don't forget to review. :3

* * *

**Chapter Three: Vacation Time**

Blaine woke the next morning feeling sublimely well-rested. He sat up and stretched, taking in his surroundings: a large bedroom with an en suite bathroom, a sun-soaked balcony off to the other side, and a king-sized bed, in which Kurt was still sleeping peacefully.

_Oh yeah, I'm on vacation, _he recalled, sliding out of bed and making his way over to the balcony. He threw open the French doors and looked at the blue sky, which was clear except for a few dark gray clouds in the distance, far over the ocean. He could hear seagulls and smell the salty breeze, the sun warming his skin. The stones beneath his feet were still wet with last night's rainfall.

A figure walked out towards the beach just below him and turned back to look at the house, catching sight of him. Santana. _Oh yeah, I'm trapped on this island with the glee club,_ Blaine remembered with much less exuberance than earlier. "Hey Santana," he greeted wanly, raising a hand.

"Oh, someone else is up," she began with a raised voice to reach him, taking out her phone. "Listen, Mr. Schue texted sometime in the night. He said his flight is delayed, probably because of that epic storm. So he doesn't know when he'll make it." She shrugged like she couldn't care less and turned on her heel, striding off as if she'd done her duty by telling one other person the news. Blaine just sighed abjectly.

Downstairs, Mike sorted through the cupboards, Tina pouring coffee nearby. "So, I know you were excited about not being in a hotel, but did it ever occur to you that we're going to have to prepare all our meals ourselves?" He turned to her. "No room service."

She smiled happily, worry-free. "It's okay, I'm sure someone here can cook. I'm just glad the electricity is back on." She leaned back against the counter, sipping her brew idly. "Room service I can live without, but coffee? No."

"Something smells divine," Mercedes joined them, beaming. "I'm so ready to eat some real breakfast."

"Be my guest," Mike said. "Cooking was not a skill I honed." Mercedes looked less enthused at the prospect of making her own food and opted for coffee.

Quinn came downstairs with Artie's chair, followed by Puck who carried Artie and deposited him into it. "These stairs? Not a fan." Artie rolled into the kitchen with a dispassionate look, Puck and Quinn following sleepily behind.

"There's coffee," Mercedes offered, as that's all there was. "Unless you wanted to make breakfast? For everyone?"

Quinn and Puck exchanged glances. "We're…terrible at baking."

"Can't you at least fry an egg?" Tina finally groused, leaning over the counter in exhaustion. Puck shrugged and decided to give it a try.

"Puck, weren't you going to sleep downstairs to keep an eye on the door?" Quinn remembered.

"Kurt said there was no point, though," Mercedes quipped, but Puck looked up.

"Yeah, I said I'd guard it until it was fixed. I totally fixed that thing last night." Everyone believed him and nodded, not bothering to check, and he stared at them. "No, seriously, go check. I did it."

"Sure you did," Quinn mumbled, sipping her coffee. Puck brooded, unable to gain praise for his good deed.

Just then, Rachel bounded downstairs, dressed in a high-waisted bikini, heart-shaped sunglasses and a mega-watt smile. She slammed a boom box onto the floor by the couch, and _Vacation_ by the Go-Go's started up at full volume. She began dancing around the room to the beat as everyone stared on.

"_Can't seem to get my mind off of you…!" _she sang, cut short when Mercedes snapped the boom box off. "Hey!"

"We're not doing this," she remarked harshly. "If we're on vacation, that means we get a vacation from you doing…that."

"Besides, glee club is over," Puck reminded them, flipping an egg in the pan. "We're just friends on a trip together now. We don't need to do the whole singing/dancing thing anymore."

"But, didn't we do that for fun?" Rachel asked, lip trembling.

Puck looked up at nothing. "I mean, I did it for a grade. And Mr. Schue isn't here. So." Another egg sizzled into the pan.

"Well, let's at least go outside and play!" She dashed out at light speed before anyone could say another word.

"Sometimes I swear she's five." Mercedes shook her head.

Sam and Finn joined next, and Santana sauntered in through the sliding door just in time to take the first completed egg Puck cooked, despite those who'd been waiting the entire time. Stomachs rumbled in objection.

"I just finished making my rounds, and we are truly and completely isolated," she reported with a self-satisfied smile.

"What are you, a prison warden?" Sam inquired heatedly.

"Seriously, it's a tropical effing paradise out there. I walked all the way around and there's no one in sight. This is some serious real estate; this beach house and property has to be worth like hundreds of thousands of dollars."

"Yeah, we already confirmed it's a scam," Puck reminded everyone.

"No, dude, it's Mr. Schue!" Finn reminded _him._

Santana just shrugged. "I'm just saying we lucked out big time. Surviving that flying murder mechanism was well worth it." She beamed at Brittany as she joined them downstairs.

"Well, whatever the case, we should be seeing Mr. Schue soon," Mercedes remarked, taking her seat with her fried egg. "He is on his way, right?"

Before Santana could reply, Sam said, "We should live it up while he's gone, though. Think how fun this could be with just us? No teachers?" Several chorused in agreement despite that this was Blaine's earlier point and no one said anything good about it then.

Once everyone had eaten their share of fried eggs, they were effectively out of eggs, and Rachel came back in. "That was fast," Tina said.

"Yeah, it got boring since I was the only one out there," Rachel admitted sullenly.

"I thought you were used to playing by yourself?" Santana cattily replied, and didn't even look as she raised her hand for Puck's high five.

"Here, eat something," Finn offered her the last egg, which was soggy and no one wanted it. Finally, Blaine and Kurt traipsed downstairs.

"Oh, hi, you two," Rachel began primly, cutting into her egg. "Did you…enjoy your sleep? In my room," she added quietly, and Finn shot her a reproving look.

Blaine paused minimally, but then smiled and said, "Yeah, I slept great, actually. I haven't slept so well in a long time!" Finn and Kurt exchanged withered glances at the memory of dragging his corpse-like body upstairs. "How about you?"

"It was okay," Rachel replied, wrinkling her nose. "A mediocre sleep. Solid 6/10. Could've been better." Finn kicked her under the table finally.

"Sorry to hear that," Blaine sincerely answered.

"Uh, we ate all the eggs so there's nothing left for you two," Puck informed them sheepishly. "Like, literally all the eggs in the house."

"Yeah you two slept wayyy late," Santana chimed in smugly despite having seen Blaine on the balcony first thing that morning. She folded her arms behind her head. "I guess the last to rise just doesn't get to eat."

"Isn't there a nursery rhyme about that or something?" Sam asked.

"Didn't they say this kitchen was fully stocked?" Kurt asked in puzzlement, heading towards the fridge. "And all you found were eggs?" Tina and Mercedes looked at each other in a panic, neither wanting to admit that was all they knew how to make.

"I mean, what can you make without eggs? Really," Puck scoffed, unfazed, but Kurt just balked at him.

"Oatmeal? Muffins? Parfait?"

"Dude, what?"

Kurt threw various ingredients on the counter. "Breakfast casserole? Smoothies? There's enough fruit here to feed an army. Oh my gosh is this chickpea flour? So then, Spanish omelettes? French toast?" Mercedes's stomach rumbled grudgingly, and Rachel gradually lowered her coffee. "You could do quiche, or crepes, or- there are so many variations of toast-!"

"Shhh…" Blaine slowly covered Kurt's mouth.

"Okay, point taken!" Puck crossed his arms defensively. "We just- we don't know how to make any of that stuff."

Kurt reached into the fridge. "You don't know how to make bacon?"

Puck brought his closed fist to his mouth, then said icily, "You didn't say there was bacon." Tina cowered from his gaze. Even Finn looked ready to throw down. "Wait, is it kosher?"

"There are plenty of things you could make! Or…I could make." Kurt surveyed the room.

"But, we ate already…" Mercedes looked mournfully at her empty egg plate.

"Oh…" Kurt looked concerned for all of two seconds, then brightened. "Well, more for me and Blaine then, I guess." He set to work while the rest of the room just stewed.

"By the way, has anyone seen Sugar Motta?"

"...Honestly forgot she was here, dude."

* * *

Outside the sun was shining brightly, the sand steaming, the waves cool and refreshing. Sugar Motta actually was outside playing, but Rachel was so desensitized to her presence she didn't notice her earlier. Now everyone was gathered out on the beach, breaking into groups. The water-players, the castle-builders, the sun-bathers, and those staying out of the sun altogether.

"This is my first time seeing the ocean," Rachel told Finn, splashing him with water playfully.

"Yeah, mine too. Pretty awesome of Mr. Schue to send us to the beach, huh? Lima is totally land-locked."

"You're still convinced Mr. Schue sent us out here?" Santana chuckled, retying her ponytail. "I bet he had a great trip to Atlanta, Georgia all queued up for us and we just ended up here by mistake." She lowered her sunglassed gaze to Finn's shoulders. "Okay seriously Pasty McDoughboy, you have got to get some sunscreen on or you're going to turn into a tonight's lobster dinner before sundown." She jerked her chin over at Kurt, who was ensconced in deep shade. "I think Kurt is over there with like, SPF 900, you should probably borrow some."

Finn looked at Rachel's concerned face, but then said, "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks Santana." He sloshed off towards the beach, and Santana and Brittany closed in on either side of Rachel.

"I would ask why you were looking out for Finn, but I feel like something from _Mean Girls_ is about to go down," Rachel admitted, shrinking from the two cheerleaders.

"No, nothing like that. Actually, I wanted to help you." Santana smiled at her, but Rachel knew better than to take those words at face value, and waited for the punchline. "I want to help you get the master bedroom from Kurt and Blaine."

"Why?"

"Because, you deserve a good night's sleep, right? Women's rights and all that."

Rachel lowered her lids at the girl. "You just want to get back at them for breakfast this morning, don't you." Santana said nothing. "Oh come on, you can't still be salty about that. Kurt totally would've shared with us if we hadn't already eaten!"

"Uh, get real. No he wouldn't have." She faced Rachel full-on. "You and Finn deserve that room, do you disagree?" Now Rachel said nothing. "So then take it."  
"I don't understand, what's in it for you?"

"I'm satisfied with revenge," Santana replied with a sweet smile and shrug.

"Then…what do you suggest I do?"

"No, what do _we_ do," she corrected. "I suggest a little boys-versus-girls competition. Something easy, like…dodgeball?"

"Beach dodgeball is the best," Brittany agreed.

"Um, did you see me during dodgeball at school?" Rachel reminded them.

"Yeah, did you see _me_, though?" Santana prompted, and Rachel considered this. "The girls will dominate. Sam, Blaine, Mike and Puck probably have some honor code so they won't throw too hard, Kurt will be too afraid of getting hit, and Finn is basically a gigantic target." Rachel glared at her. "Oh, and Artie's in a wheelchair. Need I say more."

"Meanwhile, you have Santana's guns of steel, my speed, and Tina's stealth. She's a ninja, right?" Brittany said.

"Mercedes will play awesome defense, and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all. We'll be invincible."

Rachel continued to mull this over, and Santana patted her back and walked off. "Just think about it."

Quinn reclined in her chair and handed Kurt his clinical strength sunblock. "Thanks," she said, adjusting her sunhat. Lima had its fair share of pools, but there was nothing like sunbathing at the beach. The tropics were a whole new level. And while Quinn doubted her alabaster skin was ready for it, she couldn't pass up the chance to return to Ohio with a sun-kissed tan.

"Want me to get your back?" Puck offered, and Quinn again paused at his strange show of chivalry before remembering there was nothing chivalrous about this.

"Sure." She laid down on her front and let Puck slide the oily lotion onto her back and shoulders. "Thanks."

"No problem." She nearly drifted off to sleep before she heard his voice asking, "Is it weird being here and being single?" She opened her eyes. "I mean, you did date three of the guys here."

"The same could be said for you," she answered lazily.

"Me? I didn't date three of these guys," Puck scoffed, and she let herself smile. "But I've gotta say, I actually enjoy not having to worry about some girl the whole time. I can just focus on me, you know?"

"Oh I do know."

"Preach," a voice came from beside them, and they looked over to see Artie, who had in fact been there the whole time. "Speak your truth, sister."

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" Puck asked, offended.

"It's not eavesdropping!" he sputtered in protest, just as Kurt looked over at them as well from his perch beneath the umbrella. "I'm also here, hi. You guys have surprisingly intimate conversations in public."

"Whatever, just- I can't believe you're not getting in on that mad sandcastle action over there, Artie." Puck nodded at Tina and Sugar's construction, Mike adding the finishing touches. "I'd suggest you do the same Kurt, but I'm kinda scared to think what happens when your skin makes direct contact with sunlight."

Kurt just stared at him for a second. "Okay, so I'm super white. I get it."

"Hey, guys! Look what I found!" Blaine hurried over to them happily, holding up a volleyball.

Kurt studied it, then asked, "What is it?" Blaine couldn't even reply. "I'm kidding, Blaine." He wasn't.

"A volleyball, nice!" Puck stood and took it from him, spinning it in his hands and nearly dropping it because of the sunscreen. "We should totally play."

"But, I just sat down," Quinn sighed airily.

"I'm going to have to veto that idea as well," Artie declared. "For obvious reasons."

"You can be ref, dude." Puck let out a strident whistle and waved Finn over, holding up the ball. When Rachel saw it, she whipped around and looked directly at Santana across the beach, who did the same. They nodded.

"Why don't we make it girls versus boys?" Santana suggested once they were all gathered around the net, tossing the ball from hand to hand. Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Uh, because we'd freaking _crush _you?" Puck laughed.

"Just try." Santana snapped the ball towards Puck, hitting him in the chest before he caught it.

Mercedes and Sam had returned from their romantic beach stroll, and Mercedes shook her head and backed up. "Count me out. I don't really do sports."

"And I do?" Kurt immediately protested, waving an arm at his team: the McKinley football team, and Blaine. "They can win without me. I should be allowed to sit out."

"You'll do fine!" Blaine reassured him. "Just stand in the back. I'll make sure you don't get hit."

"Wait, _get hit?!"_

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Brittany cheered, and no one knew if she meant volleyball, or just getting hit with one.

Artie rolled through the sand to his post, Mercedes sitting in the chair a few paces back. He blew the whistle and lowered his hand. "Er…start the game. Match? Game."

Finn served first, an absolute whiff that didn't clear the net. Puck glared at him as the girls high-fived. "What the hell, dude?" he mouthed.

"Sorry," was all he said.

"Even though Finn is technically an athlete, he has the coordination of a newborn puffin." Santana took her position to serve. "Let me show you how it's done."

Her serve was like something out of a sports anime, speeding across the net like a bullet and hitting the sand by Kurt's feet before he had a chance to react. It bounced away and rolled down the beach into the tide, and Santana dusted her hands off with a smirk. Artie could only applaud.

Puck finally closed his mouth. "Time out," he declared, and his team huddled up. Kurt was all too happy to run and get the ball.

"Okay dudes, we need a strategy or we are boned."

"Santana is scary and all, but the rest of her team is a bunch of creampuffs," Sam assured him. "I mean, three of them were Cheerios, but the other three? Pure garbage at sports."

"I seem to remember Tina taking a tackle on the football field like a champ, though," Finn reminded them.

"Face it, we have no shot," Mike surmised.

"Should we sing_ Eye of the Tiger?"_ Blaine recommended.

Puck regarded him critically. "Why, though?" He just shrugged in reply. "…Okay, it's as good a plan as any."

Kurt returned and joined them, invigorated. "Okay, what's the plan?"


	4. Extreme Sports

**Chapter Four: Extreme Sports**

An hour later, the girls were in the lead. The guys were all terrified and intimidated by Santana, and Finn was afraid of hurting Rachel so he sucked. Mike was also going easy on Tina. Puck was frustrated by them and muttered something about "This is why being single is great." Sam was just not good at volleyball, and Blaine spent so much time running interference defending Kurt that he didn't contribute at all.

Meanwhile, things were going perfectly to plan for Santana. Quinn set the ball for Santana to spike 90% of the time, and the other 10%, Santana was the decoy and Brittany spiked. Tina ended up being great at defense and Sugar made a decent cheerleader for them. Rachel was useless.

Brittany high-fived Santana and said, "You were right, as long as we try to hit Kurt, we've got this in the bag."

Santana grinned in reply. "Yeah, and hey. You almost had him that time." Quinn shook her head nearby.

Meanwhile, Blaine got to his feet wearily. "I swear it's like…they're doing it on purpose." He turned to Kurt, who just looked stunned. "Are you okay though?"

"I…yeah."

"Dammit, they _are_ doing it on purpose!" Puck realized, punching his fist. "Okay, change formation. Blaine, you're in the vanguard."

"What?"

"No!"

"You're surprisingly into this, Puck," Finn laughed. "It's just a game. You're usually pretty chill about this kind of stuff."

He shrugged in response. "I just want to wipe that smirk off Santana's face. Plus she's seriously compromising my masculinity with those spikes." Finn frowned and nodded. "Sam, rear guard. You're trash."

"Wha?"

Kurt looked at his new bodyguard, who just winked. "I got you, bro."

Santana straightened up at the sight of this change in lineup. "Damn, they've found us out."

"Do you have a new strategy?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"...Absolutely not."

With Blaine and Puck taking offense, the boys gained the lead. Sam was able to field the ball, but never over the net, which was what he'd been doing all along anyway so that didn't change things.

"Only a few more points and they'll win," Tina breathed, wiping her brow. "What do we do?"

"We're not going to lose," was all Santana said. She watched as Sugar failed her serve brilliantly, and next to serve was Sam, who launched it into the back of Finn's head. "My serve," she grinned, taking her spot.

She slammed the ball towards Kurt, who by now had the reflexes to raise his arms to block it, inadvertently sending it straight to Blaine. "Oh, I helped!"

"Do it, Blaine!" Puck commanded, and he tipped the ball over the net, easily avoiding Brittany's block. "Yeaaahh! Eat that, Santana!"

Santana cursed and kicked the sand, striding away. "Should we sing something?" Rachel suggested desperately. "_Welcome to the Jungle_?"

"No point," Quinn resolved, folding her arms and turning away.

At the sight of the girls, disappointed and upset－Rachel again near to tears－the guys softened considerably. "Dammit…" Puck looked around at them and their visibly faltering spirits. "…We're going to throw the match, aren't we."

Finn hesitated, then nodded. "We're going to throw the match."

As the girls celebrated their victory and headed back into the beach house, Mercedes held back and waited for Sam. "Good game," she told him.

"Are you kidding? I was terrible," he laughed.

"Didn't look that way to me. You were better than Rachel at least. And Sugar."

"High praise."

"Did you have fun?" she asked him, and he looked around. Quinn, Santana and Brittany were all cheering over their victory, entering the house arm in arm. Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's shoulders as he showed him how he managed to block the ball. Finn walked between Puck and Rachel, who reached across to ruffle Puck's mohawk as he dodged away.

"Yeah…I had a blast, actually."

"Almost makes you forget we were scammed into coming here by a psycho maniac, doesn't it?" Mercedes chuckled.

"That and the damn volcanoes."

Inside, Sugar was proclaiming that she was "Soooo hungry!" which reminded everyone else that they were famished as well. The sun was starting to go down outside.

"Losers make dinner," Santana declared with a devilish simper.

"Are you sure? We have to eat it, after all," Quinn reminded her, and her smile vanished.

"Well, there really isn't a better option."

It was true, Kurt was in the losing group, and all the guys turned to him for guidance.

"Fine, just do what I tell you."

"What should we make?" Finn asked, raiding the fridge yet unable to conceptualize a meal. "I don't see any pizza, so I'm out of ideas."

Blaine took out of a slab of disturbingly fresh-looking fish. "Maybe we could grill these?"

"Did you say grill?" Puck brightened. "I'm on it."

Kurt gave succinct directions for the grilling of the fish, chopping of veggies and creation of rice. It was extremely simple and basic, for which everyone was grateful.

"Hey, you're actually pretty good at this." Kurt watched Sam's chopping technique with approval.

"Thanks. I'm used to having to cook for my siblings. Making vegetables microscopic is a big part of that."

"Totally understandable."

At the table, the guys served the meal they cobbled together, and they all sat down together to feast. Once they realized it was edible, they dug in.

"This is so good, you guys! Especially the rice," Mercedes praised.

"Well yeah, Mike made it," Santana commented, earning a frown from him.

"Do you guys hear that?" Brittany asked the room.

"The sound of thinly-veiled racism?" Artie asked without looking up. "Yeah, glad I'm not the only one."

"No." The TV suddenly erupted into static and white noise from the living room. "That."

The table was again replete with faces of horror, shock and fear, tears standing in eyes. Finn stood and went over to the TV, first trying to power it off, but when that failed he settled for mute.

"Brittany, what did you do that for?!" Rachel accused, setting down her silverware with trembling hands.

"Why do you think it was her fault?" Santana immediately snapped, ready to fight.

"Are the messages back?" Brittany asked, turning in her seat to view the TV. Everyone else watched it expectantly, and to their surprise, the static disappeared and was replaced with a black screen and a single word in white.

"_Congratulations,"_ Quinn read from the screen, blinking.

"Well, I mean, it wasn't _that _good," Kurt chuckled, spearing the fish with his fork.

"But still a major accomplishment, compared to this morning," Mercedes admitted with an earnest nod towards Puck, and the girls applauded gamely for the meal they were given.

"_...on your victory during the volleyball match," _Quinn finished reading as the words populated on the screen.

"Oh, what the?"

"Wait a minute," Finn said, slow as ever. "So, the messages Brittany was talking about last night…were real?" Rachel's mouth formed a perfect O.

"_Brittany and…Boobs McGhee will have received-" _Quinn couldn't keep reading and broke off into a sputtering laugh, the rest of the table snickering as well as Santana stood abruptly from her seat.

"Hang on, it really says that?" She went over to the TV and stared at it. "There's only one person who calls me that…"

Kurt, too, had obtained a far-off look, and Finn had an expression of intense concentration. "No way…Coach Sylvester?"

"Sue?"

"What's the TV say?!" Sugar screeched at Santana.

"It says Brittany and I received roses for winning the game, and now we're safe from elimination. Oh, and this whole trip is an elimination contest, like a reality TV show."

"Did you say we're on TV?" Rachel asked, combing her hair and glancing around frantically.

"Like the show, Bachelor Pad or something. And the roses keep you safe from elimination and there's a grand prize." Santana shrugged and took up her seat again as everyone stared.

"Wait…" Blaine started, but similarly, could only focus on one thing. "You said we're on TV?"

She raised her eyebrows at him, then nodded. "Yeah. Freaking cameras _everywhere_, hidden all throughout this house." Everyone at the table paled or flushed in abject horror and shame, except Puck, Brittany and Sugar.

"Hidden cameras?" Rachel squeaked.

"Everywhere?" Kurt choked out. Sam put his head in his hands.

Santana broke into a grin. "Nah, I just wanted to see those faces." Now everyone was glaring at her in some combination of anger, relief and pity. "_And_ those!" She cackled to herself.

"You're evil," was all Quinn said.

"So are we on TV or not?!" Rachel cried shrilly.

"And what was that about roses, is that part true?" Brittany took a long-stemmed rose seemingly out of nowhere, as did Santana.

"I found mine on my bed after the game."

"Me too, obviously. Same bed."

"Moreover, what's this about…an elimination?" Artie inquired. "I can't wrap my head around all this."

"How do we even know the TV really said all this?" Mercedes challenged with another pointed glare at Santana.

"I saw it too," Quinn confirmed. "And it's true. The thing about Bachelor Pad."

"This is a lot to take in," Finn decided for the group, as always. "Let's get some sleep and discuss it tomorrow morning. It's been a long day."

"Or here's a thought, let's forget it ever happened," Puck suggested. About half the room was on board with this idea.

Quinn stood up and said, "If Coach Sylvester's involved in this, I definitely want to get to the bottom-"

"I said," Finn cut her off with an apologetic yet stern look, very Mr. Schue-esque. "We can discuss it tomorrow after we've had some rest."

But once everyone went to their rooms, they discussed it amongst themselves anyway. "I can't believe this trip is actually a reality TV show," Mercedes said to Sam as she combed her hair.

"You really believe that?" he snorted. "It's just some nonsense Santana made up after pretending to look at the TV. And Quinn is clearly in on it."

"Then, the roses?"

"They must've picked them outside."

Mercedes gave him a deadpan look. "Full-blown, long-stemmed red roses, just growing outside on the beach in Mexico?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, I'm not a geologist or whatever!" Mercedes just sighed deeply.

"But, think about it!" Tina started up. "The plane, the tickets, the address to this house…! It's all so cloak-and-dagger, it's clearly Sue. It's totally her style."

Mike stared at the ceiling from his place in bed. "But it doesn't make sense. She doesn't have the means to manipulate the television, first of all. And to follow us all the way here? Spy on us?"

"_Totally _something she would do!" Tina replied, spreading her hands. Mike groaned and turned away, facing the wall.

"Maybe Coach Sylvester isn't on the island with us. She could be having her dirty work done by proxy. Quinn, maybe?" Artie suggested, raising an eyebrow at Puck.

"Pssh, Quinn? No, she done with Sue's BS. Santana on the other hand…"

"The easy guess, but…would she really let Sue call her Boobs McGhee in front of all of us?"

Puck considered this for a moment. "Brittany, then?"

"She didn't say anything about this to me, obviously!" Santana scoffed. "I haven't talked to that lady in weeks!"

"Then, you really think she's behind it," Quinn sighed. She looked at Brittany to quell her jumping on the bed. "What do you think, Britt? Coach tormented us during our glee club days, but now that some of us have graduated? What's her motive?"

"She always liked torturing people for fun," Brittany surmised after a moment. "Mr. Schue especially. I can see her wanting to mess with us, but she'd probably have more fun if Mr. Schue were here with us."

"He was supposed to be. Maybe it really is chance that he missed the flight." Santana shook her head. "Or, no, he didn't really miss the flight. We did."

"She gave us fourteen tickets, one of which was for Sugar Motta. Mr. Schue…was never supposed to come here," Quinn realized, and the other two met her gaze with a hint of fear. "Whatever she's doing, it's just for us. If it really is her."

"It's gotta be Sue," Finn said, pacing the room.

"Weren't you telling us it was Mr. Schue who set this up, like a mystery game?" Rachel reminded him petulantly. "And you told us to trust you, and then you led us right into the lion's den?"

He stopped and faced her. "Rachel, you have to be the only one who doesn't turn on me. I was just trying to do what was best for the whole club."

"I know you were." She set down her hairbrush and turned to face him. "And really, being here wasn't so bad. I had a lot of fun today. Now, if anything, I'm worried about the…elimination." She looked down at her hands. "I don't want to get voted off this island, and it's no secret everyone in this club has some kind of grudge against me, so I probably will…"

"Hey, it won't come to that," Finn soothed her, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. "All that stuff Santana said about this being a contest, we can just ignore it. Like Puck said. Then it can just be our vacation."

"Really?" Rachel asked, smiling at him, and he returned it.

"Really. The volleyball game is as far as our friendly competition will go."

"The volleyball game…! Shoot, the master bedroom!" Rachel leapt from her seat and tore out into the hallway.

"Okay, here, it says Bachelor Pad was an elimination-style television game show," Blaine read off his laptop. "The contestants live together in a mansion and take part in challenges to prevent elimination, go on dates with contestants of their choice, and choose other contestants to eliminate. And hey, there's a $25,000 prize."

Kurt smiled at him a little weakly. "That sounds nice, especially the dates. Why would Sue Sylvester want to put us on a reality show like that, though? And how would she even get the rights to do so? We didn't sign anything."

"Oh, I misread. $250,000 pri-"

"So how do we win?"

Blaine smiled and set aside his laptop, then looked over at Kurt. "Why are you all the way over there? Santana was joking about the cameras."

"Sorry, I'm still not used to this bed," Kurt replied, scooting half a mile closer. "If it turns out we are on a reality TV show, that's going to change the dynamic a lot. I don't want us to be competitors."

"Well luckily, you and I can just team and up win the whole thing." Blaine pulled Kurt even closer and kissed him softly. "And you can't say the idea of competing against and subsequently eliminating the other members of the glee club hasn't occurred to you before."

"I'll admit that does sound appealing," Kurt approved, kissing Blaine more deeply. He looked into his eyes when he drew back. "I'm not tired at all…"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Blaine whispered.

"Definitely."

Ten seconds later, Rachel Berry burst through the door. "I demand you relinquish this room to me at on-!" She stopped and stared at the two, who stared back.

"Hey Rachel! We were just about to have a Beach Boys karaoke marathon," Blaine said with a smile, stepping back from his laptop speakers to hand her a mic. "Want to join us?"

Rachel's threat withered away as elation bubbled up inside her, and she couldn't keep the grin from her face. "I'd love to!"


	5. Food for Thought

**Chapter Five: Food for Thought**

"Ugh, the entire house heard you guys last night. I didn't get any sleep at all," Santana groaned over her coffee the next morning.

"Well, to be fair neither did we," Blaine said with a smile at Rachel, who beamed in return.

"Couldn't you have kept it down? And the fact that it was all _three_ of you…" Artie shook his head in disapproval. "Just made it so much worse."

"Seriously, I was all the way down the hall and I heard everything. I had _earplugs_ in," Puck sighed. Finn sat across the table from him looking extremely disturbed, shooting perplexed looks between Rachel, Blaine and Kurt.

"Did I _miss _something?!"

"Chunks, how in the hell did you not hear them, you were right across the hall," Santana intoned, closing her eyes.

"Um, more importantly, didn't you guys learn anything? How have you not started breakfast already?" Kurt turned to open the nearest cupboard, secretly pleased to be relied on for sustenance.

"Yeah, about that," Puck began, leaning his elbows on the table. "There's no GD food up in this place."

"That's what you said last time, remember?"

"Yeah, and then Kurt proceeded to bring the entire produce section of Kroger out of nowhere," Santana agreed, nodding absently.

But when Kurt opened the cupboards, they were bare. In fact, there might've been cobwebs they were so empty. He shot Blaine a puzzled look, but he could only offer a shrug in return.

"Oh my gosh Kurt, are you magic?" Brittany had to ask.

"Yeah, you literally made all the food in the house disappear," Puck spread his hands for emphasis.

"_I_ did this?"

"That, or he made a bunch of fictional ingredients appear yesterday morning," Sam surmised in agreement with Brittany, and Artie gave him a critical look.

"Fictional ingredients?"

"Hey, some of those fruits were downright crazy-looking."

"If there's no food in this house, we're going to starve," Rachel felt the need to remind them, jokes aside.

"Check for eggs," Puck prompted.

"And it's not like we can go grocery shopping," she went on, ignoring him and beginning to pace. "You don't think Coach Sylvester came here like a thief in the night and stole everything? She's done it before, at Christmas."

"Honestly, the sound of y'all's singing would've scared her off long before she made it past the threshold," Sam confessed.

"Speaking of Sue, weren't we going to talk about all that this morning?"

"No, we all agreed we'd pretend it never happened," Puck said quickly, and Finn squinted at him.

"Really? I don't think so."

"Guys! More important things are going on right now…!" Rachel threw an emphatic hand at the empty fridge. "Starvation. Let's talk plans. Go."

"Cannibalism," Brittany immediately supplied.

Mercedes walked in, her face falling at the sight of no food prepared, and turning to rage at the sight of no food at all. "What in the hell is going on here?!"

"We're going to die, that's what." Rachel slammed the freezer shut and came face to face with an index card held in place by a magnet. "What's this?"

"'Come to the warehouse 2 miles east of the beach house…'" Blaine flipped it over. "'…if you ever want to see your precious food again.'" Mercedes promptly began walking exactly east. "Wait!"

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"In case you haven't noticed, this whole trip has been kind of a joke." Santana sighed and rose to her feet. "Well, what are we waiting for? Once again, I know exactly how this will end up. With us trudging through the rainforest, malnourished, to knock on the front door of the alleged murder shed Rachel's been warning us about."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "I forgot all about the murder shed."

"It _does_ say 'warehouse'…" Blaine agreed darkly.

"But we have no choice, right? Because they have our food." Everyone sighed and grumbled at their unfortunate luck and inevitable doom. "Come downstairs, everyone! Emergency…hiking trip!"

* * *

It was past midday by the time they arrived at what resembled a warehouse, and Santana had been right about the malnourished part. More than a few of them looked ready to pass out and/or be sick. Some of them even were.

"Weaklings," Santana sniped as Tina returned from a vomit session in the underbrush, looking a ghoulish shade of green.

"Lay off, Santana," Finn replied sluggishly. "Not everyone is as used to rigorous exercise on an empty stomach as you are."

"That was really more like a light stroll," she shrugged, striding ahead. Finn watched her go.

"I've been meaning to ask, but why are you always wearing your Cheerios uniform? We're literally on vacation and school is over."

She turned to face him, walking backwards. "It just never occurred to me to wear anything else. Besides, it would just get ruined out here." She glimpsed over at Kurt, in full safari-chic regalia. "Obviously not everyone shares my concern."

"Hey, if I'm going to die out here, then the outfit my body is found in has to be appropriately fabulous," Kurt reasoned gravely. Rachel realized this was true and looked at her own ensemble, the usual assortment of a short-sleeved sweater and tartan skirt.

"I just hope they describe my death as heroic and bold at my posthumous awards ceremonies," she whimpered.

Quinn took yet another note off the warehouse door. "It says to pair up," she read blandly.

"Oh so we're being killed in pairs now?"

Finn and Rachel grasped hands without looking as if they'd rehearsed it a million times, as did Kurt and Blaine. Tina and Mike remained side by side, but Artie looked dubious. "I want to know what we're pairing up for, first."

"Maybe it'll be like _Saw _and we have to kill each other. One lives, one dies," Tina mused. Finn and Rachel turned to each other in horror, and Kurt released Blaine's hand.

"In that case…Santana?"

She looked flattered, but said, "Let's just keep it simple. It's probably one of those game show-style challenges. You'll want to be partnered with someone who will help you win." She linked arms with Brittany and headed up the warehouse steps. "Shall we? I'm literally starving."

Inside the warehouse, rows and rows of kitchen appliances could be seen, not unlike so many cooking TV shows. Rachel compulsively began searching for cameras.

"Well, I don't see any murder devices. Unless you count the…ovens." But Sugar approached a counter and removed a chef's knife from the block, the blade glistening in the overhead lighting. "At least they're keeping it classy."

"Isn't it about a thousand times more likely that we're going to be cooking?" Puck rationalized. As he spoke, a figure made their way to the front of the room, slowly coming into focus.

It was a tall, older woman with short blond hair, wearing a track suit and a perpetual scowl, marching towards them like an army sergeant. "Sue!" Finn accused once she stopped before them, and Rachel grabbed his arm fearfully.

"It's not Sue," an assortment of people realized collectively.

"How do you know?"

"Her tracksuit isn't Adidas, it's something off-brand," Kurt folded his arms.

"She would've totally gone for a Dr. Evil-style entrance, like turning around in a swivel chair on the balcony, with a spotlight on her," Santana surmised.

"Something about her eyes is lacking the fiery, endless hatred and contempt she reserves solely for the glee club," Artie concluded. "In fact, I think this is a robot?"

"A robot?" Finn took a couple of steps towards the figure, but it jerked to life in a decidedly robotic manner, turning at the waist rigidly to face them. "Oh okay, yep. Definitely."

"Welcome, Glee Club swine," the robot greeted in a voice that sounded like a recording of Sue's. There was a pause, and then, "I want to play a game." Tina gave Mike a wide-eyed look.

"A cooking competition, plain and simple. You'll pair up and cook a meal of your choice. Winner gets immunity." Everyone slumped at the anticlimactic challenge, although they were grateful murder wasn't involved. "Sandbags and Brittany can choose to forego this challenge." Santana looked around warily while Brittany took her rose from her Cheerios jacket. "You may advance straight to the balcony if you wish."

"Sweet." Santana took off.

"After this challenge, your rations will be restored. You have one hour to conceptualize a dish and execute it to perfection."

"Uh, what should we make?" Finn turned to Rachel, who opened her mouth to reply.

"Wait, we're actually doing this?" Puck asked, gesturing to the android. "Taking orders from Robo-Sue?"

"It's the only way to get our food back," Quinn said with resignation.

"Or we could just rob that pantry." He pointed at the open room, which was overflowing with delicious ingredients.

"And carry it back two miles to the house? No thanks," Mercedes shot the idea down. "Why you always gotta resort to crime, Puckerman?"

"Because the alternative is cooking in a warehouse…in the forest…with a _robot imitation of Coach Sylvester _as the judge." He shrugged like this was a no-brainer.

Sam cleared his throat and broke in, "Um, guys? Everyone else has already started." Indeed, everyone was at their stations prepping food while the timer overhead showed their hour had started.

"Shit."

Artie had paired up with Sugar while Puck argued, so he teamed up with Quinn.

Rachel put her hair in a ponytail and looked surprisingly thrilled. "You know, I've always wanted to compete on one of these cooking shows," she began, taking a pan out of the cupboard below her. "Even if we aren't on TV, it's still a fun opportunity."

"Wait, can you cook, though?"

She stopped and looked at Finn, smile waning. "Not really. I mean, we're making grilled cheese. Anyway, we'll find out, won't we?"

"I'm just glad we're not getting axe-murdered after all. It was really looking that way for a second there."

Tina and Mike opted for something admittedly Asian and ambitious, flavors so complex even they weren't sure what it was supposed to taste like. Kurt listed French dishes until Blaine recognized something, so they were making crème brûlée. Sam and Mercedes came to a consensus on mac and cheese, but with every cheese known to man in it. Sugar and Artie decided to attempt a pizza and put all their favorite things on it, which resulted in more of an art project than a meal.

Quinn and Puck were at an impasse, staring at their ingredients. "Well, we got a late start so we should keep it simple. Maybe something we don't have to…heat."

"You mean like a sandwich?" Puck asked, and Quinn snapped and pointed at him. "Cool, how about PB&J?"

"Puck… Don't you want to win?"

"You know I couldn't care less," he started, but then looked at Santana on the balcony, watching them with a rose dangling from her fingertips. "On second thought, it would be pretty legit to have immunity…"

"Okay, we'll make some kind of Italian sub. PB&J isn't going to win any awards."

Artie sat back and admired their creation. "You know Sugar, do you think we're crazy for listening to this bionic Sue?"

"I don't know, Artie…" she sighed, frowning at him when he shook his head at her addition of gummy worms. "This entire vacation has been kind of crazy, hasn't it? I think we should just roll with the punches and it'll probably end up being a lot of fun!" She beamed at him. "I mean, I never would've made this delicious pizza with you if it weren't for Robot Sue!"

"True that," Artie agreed, returning her smile. "Though I think the chocolate chips were overkill…"

Kurt studied the dessert before him, then extended a hand to Blaine. "Okay, hand me the blow torch."

Blaine did a double-take. "The what?"

Mercedes folded her arms across her stomach with a groan. "I'm so hungry I just want to eat this now," she whined to Sam, who was watching their cooling mac and cheese vigilantly.

"I know what you mean. Hey maybe once we're all finished, we'll have some kind of potluck, and we'll get to eat everything!" This just made Mercedes hungrier.

Santana wandered across the balcony until she was looking down at their station. "You might as well eat it now, Mercedes. You two have no chance at beating the teen gay wonder twins over here." She nodded at Blaine and Kurt, who turned to her and put his hands on his hips. "I was watching them the whole time and that thing looks effing delicious. I would totally enjoy it, you know, if I ate."

Mercedes directed her forlorn gaze at the crème brûlée. "You're right, who were we kidding. Kurt has this in the bag. …I'm eating the mac and cheese."

"No, wait!" Sam held out a hand, then his gaze fell on the blow torch. "Hey dude, can I borrow that? I think I know what this is missing."

"Okay, just be careful," Kurt advised, handing it over. "You don't want to-" Sam blackened the mac and cheese, flame at full blast, and stood back proudly. Kurt offered him a small smile. "Nailed it."

"Time." Robot Sue waved her arm and directed them all to the front of the room, where they stood. "_With_ your dishes," she snapped, and they all went back to their stations to get their meals.

One by one they submitted their dishes to the judge, which consisted of dumping the food into Sue's hollow, metal chest cavity. She took a few moments to compute the results, and they waited in tense silence. The silence wore on, from seconds to minutes, and Rachel dropped her crossed fingers.

"What's taking so long?!"

"Maybe we all did really good," Mike shrugged.

"Or more likely, really bad," Puck corrected him.

Eventually, eight minutes had passed. Tina had jumped up to sit on the counter behind her, and Mercedes lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Finn was perusing the station behind him for something he could eat, and Rachel had moved to the front window to stare out at the distant sea.

"I think it's over," Artie concluded finally, setting his hands on his wheels.

"We don't get to know the results?" Rachel whirled on him. Santana and Brittany descended the stairs at long last.

"Well, she did say once the challenge was complete, our food would be restored."

"Um, she also said that the winner would get immunity!"

"Maybe it'll be announced back at the house? On the TV?"

"Maybe it'll be announced on national TV, since this is a TV show, apparently."

A few more seconds of silence, and Finn shrugged. "Alright, let's go, then." They all started heading for the exit, and the Suebot spoke up: "The results are in!"

"Of course." Everyone grumbled and got back in their spots.

Sue held their attention for a moment longer. "That was very difficult to judge, because you all did awful." Even as a robot, Sue's insults cut deep. "However, one couple did emerge victorious."

She turned around to reveal an LED panel on the back of her track suit jacket, which read **Sam and Mercedes**.

"Oh my god!"

"What?! How?"

"I can't believe it!"

Various expressions of indignation, jubilant triumph, and apathy were exchanged, and Sam and Mercedes embraced. Confetti rained from the ceiling, awkwardly twirling down in silence once the cheering had subsided.

Kurt turned up a palm angrily. "Again, how. I _watched _Sam turn that into charcoal."

"Because, Porcelain," the robot began with a surprisingly human touch of impatience and pity. "The two of them cooked their dish with the most important ingredient of all."

"Cheese," Puck declared. "We did too!" Quinn set a hand on his shoulder.

"Ours was literally _grilled cheese!"_ Rachel erupted.

"Not cheese," Suebot snapped. "But love."

"Butt love?!" Puck expostulated.

"Love? Really?" Tina looked up at Mike in puzzlement.

"But, I love Blaine!" Kurt fiercely took his hand as if to prove his point, Blaine wincing slightly.

"Yes, and Finn is my soulmate! We're getting married!" Rachel cried, throwing a hand to her chest. "You can't honestly expect us to believe-"

"You may love each other, but was that reflected in your dish?" Rachel dropped her hand, and Sue went on, "Did you cook as partners, as equals? Did you have each other's best interests in mind?"

Finn looked at Rachel apologetically. "I mean, you didn't let me help at all."

"You didn't even _offer_…!" Rachel hissed back, and Finn raised his shoulders defensively.

"But, I would've if you'd…!"

Blaine turned to Kurt. "I just did whatever you told me, honestly."

Kurt opened his mouth to object, but then just said, "That is true."

"Sam took dangerous measures to ensure his and Mercedes's victory," Sue was explaining. "And for that reason, the two of you will be treated to an all-you-can-eat buffet in the restaurant." She waved a hand at a door nearby, through which was an artfully decorated restaurant with a single table set for two.

"Woo! See you, guys!" The two headed for the restaurant hand in hand, the others muttering obscenities at their backs.

"What do the rest of us get to eat?" Tina asked, and Sue turned to her.

"For you all I have some gruel outside, moldering in the afternoon sun. Enjoy." And she strode off.

Outside the warehouse was a long table set with individual bowls of gruel that so closely resembled vomit Tina nearly had a reprise of her earlier symptoms. Most of them dumped it onto the ground. A desperate few ventured a bite.

On the trek back, Kurt and Rachel lamented their loss, trying to figure out what went wrong while Santana heckled them for being sore losers. Everyone pointedly avoided eye contact with Mercedes and Sam the entire way back. Once they were safely back in the house, everyone tore the kitchen apart and started eating what they found, from dry pasta to raw meat. It was sundown by the time they finished, and the TV snapped on.


	6. Elimination Nation

**A/N: **This chapter is the reason I sub-classified this story as Drama. It happens a lot, I have to have serious moments in order to progress the plot. It's hard to move a story along on humor alone. So just bear with it if the tone seems off.

**Chapter Six: Elimination Nation**

"What's it say this time?" Puck called from the kitchen, uncooked rigatoni crunching between his teeth. Rachel elected herself spokesperson and stood beside the TV.

"It's time for our first elimination," the girl read, unconsciously straightening her spine. "A cocktail party will be held, black tie-" She closed her eyes as a piercing shriek was let out from somewhere down the hall, likely Kurt. "-optional. Blind ballot voting will commence, and the couple voted off will be asked to leave immediately."

"Wow, this is getting serious," Finn said, staring at the carpet.

"Yeah, black tie? Who in the hell brings that kind of thing to an island vaca-" Puck stopped and slumped as Kurt descended the stairs. "Dude how did you change so fast."

Kurt took the pasta box from Puck aggressively, and Finn turned to them. "No, I mean… We have to vote someone off. Someone has to go home. Tonight."

"Two people, in fact," Santana said, folding her arms. She side-eyed Rachel. "Don't stuff the ballot box this time, Yentl." Rachel tossed her head.

Everyone retired to their rooms to wash off the jungle grime and change into their Sunday best, which for Finn consisted of a wrinkled polo shirt, and Puck chose his jeans that had the least amount of holes in them. Brittany wore her Cheerios uniform.

"Who are you going to vote off?" Kurt asked, experimenting with highlighter while Blaine dumped an entire jar of hair gel on his head. "Obviously Rachel will be our biggest competition, no matter what the challenge."

"I don't know, no one expected Mercedes and Sam to win the cooking challenge," Blaine said to his reflection.

"Which was total BS by the way?"

"I knew you were going to enjoy this once it got competitive…" He smiled fondly, then turned as Rachel power-walked into their en suite bathroom, Mercedes right behind her. "Hi, guys…?"

"The other bathrooms are all occupied. I think Santana completely fumigated one with her hairspray," Mercedes reported.

"Hope you don't mind," Rachel said, all but elbowing Blaine out of the way to adjust her eyeliner.

Kurt got up from his seat at the vanity to let Mercedes sit down, and he met Blaine's eyes for a moment. "Do you guys…know who you're voting off?"

Rachel lowered her pencil tentatively. "Not yet… Do you?"

"Well, not you that's for sure!" Kurt laughed a touch unconvincingly, and Blaine dropped his face into his palm. "And you don't even have to worry about it," he directed at Mercedes. "Because that rose means you're safe!"

"You're right, I totally forgot." Mercedes admired the rosebud in her chignon. "We really lucked out in that cooking challenge huh?"

"Yes," Kurt and Rachel loudly chorused, then gave each other guilty looks through the mirror. Mercedes furrowed her brow, but Rachel went on, "I mean, I have no doubt you and Sam cooked a delicious meal." She leaned towards the mirror, mascara in hand. "But I should've won."

"You?!" Kurt sputtered, offended, and Blaine raised his hands and left the bathroom.

Downstairs, Puck, Tina and Artie all took champagne glasses from a nearby tray. Puck downed his and Tina sniffed it and took a drink, then made a face. "God, what is this? It's awful."

"It's pure grain alcohol." Artie spewed his across the room, and Puck shrugged. "It's all I could find in the liquor cabinet." Tina set hers back down.

Quinn and Santana joined them, dressed to the nines in cocktail gowns. "You guys look nice!" Tina said cheerily. "Something to drink?"

"Thanks…" Quinn said warily, and Santana flipped her hair. "When's the voting start?"

"Once everyone gets their asses down here, probably." Puck looked up at the stairs. "Who are we waiting on anyway?"

"Literally anyone you've ever associated with the word 'diva'," Artie said.

Blaine and Finn walked down the stairs next. "Hey dude, do you have a bow tie I could borrow? I feel under-dressed," Finn asked, knowing full-well that Blaine did.

But the man just gave him a once-over. "I don't know, Finn. I don't think it would really…go." Finn glanced down at his rugby polo with a frown.

Mike, Brittany and Sam had unfortunately gotten into the Everclear and were having a dance-off at the back of the living room. Sugar joined in but was stone-cold sober.

When Kurt, Mercedes and Rachel finally came downstairs, they all looked disgruntled and peevish, which made Santana smile. "I guess the reason the Diva Squad took so long is because they were having a spat."

Puck narrowed his eyes at her. "You know you're one finger snap away from being right in that club too, right?" Quinn choked on her drink with a laugh.

"It's true they were fighting when I left," Blaine sighed, watching them with an air of worry, which he dropped almost instantly. "Anyway, should we start voting?"

The voting booth was just a converted closet with a curtain for a door, complete with a ballot box and photographs of each pair, except those immune from elimination. Each pair conferred with each other before voting, the concept of a secret ballot apparently a foreign one to them.

Tina dragged Mike out onto the patio. "I will throw you in this pool if you don't sober up in two seconds."

Mike was still, then straightened up. "Okay. What's going on?"

"Who are you going to vote for?" Tina asked, rubbing her arms at the night chill. "I was thinking Puck and Quinn."

"What? Why?"

Tina shrugged. "I just don't really have a connection with either of them."

"...Fair enough. I was honestly thinking Finchel." Tina's jaw dropped, and Mike held his hands out. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Finn is my boy, but Rachel… She's just making this vacation about her again. Like she always does. And I know how you feel about that."

"You have my full support," Tina couldn't help but grin.

Artie looked at Sugar across the kitchen counter, where she was making a tower out of empty red Solo cups. "So…any thoughts on this vote that's about to go down?"

"Umm, yeah. I was thinking…" She carefully placed the final cup on the top. "Samcedes."

Artie drew his brows together. "They have immunity though."

"Oh yeah. Then Mike and Tina."

"What?!" Artie cried. "Tina? Why?"

"I don't know! Who are _you_ picking?" Sugar retorted defensively.

"Finchel! Obviously!"

"But they're so entertaining!" Artie rolled his eyes and headed out of the room. "Wait, Artie! Come back!"

Puck cornered Quinn in the restroom while she was touching up her lipstick, and she gave a start. "Puck, for god's sake…"

"Who are you eliminating," he asked point blank as he closed the door.

She looked at him for a beat, capping her lipstick. "Finchel. You?"

Puck shrugged. "Klaine."

"Is this still about the breakfast thing?"

"I don't know, are you eliminating my bro Finn because you're still jealous of Rachel?"

"Whoa. That's a low blow." Quinn crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. "I'm sad to see Finn go of course, but Rachel is still annoying, even after all this time." Puck looked up in consideration, then realized he couldn't help but agree. "What did Kurt ever do to you? Or Blaine for that matter?"

"I don't like how they out-dressed me tonight," Puck replied insecurely.

"First of all, that's not exactly a tall order," she said, eyeing his jeans and faded T-shirt. "And second, they're always going to do that no matter where we are."

"And Rachel is always going to be annoying, but she's still my fellow Jew." Quinn gave him an unconvinced look. "And Finn is our friend!" She pushed past him to exit the bathroom. "Whatever, just think about it!"

Mercedes and Sam were on the sofa in the living room, not even trying to be discreet. "So…?" Mercedes quirked an eyebrow. "Thoughts?"

Sam appeared deep in thought for several seconds, then said, "Okay, so waffles beat French toast, _but_ French toast totally beats pancakes."

"Sam!" Mercedes couldn't roll her eyes any higher. "I _meant_ about the vote!"

"Oh, right. I voted Artie and Sugar off."

"You already did?"

"What are you going to do?"

Mercedes hesitated, then slumped her shoulders. "Rachel."

"But, that means Finn, too."

"I know, but…she and I kinda got into it in the bathroom earlier when we were getting ready."

"Wasn't Kurt with you?"

"Yeah, but I'm never going to vote off Kurt." Sam didn't ask for an explanation on this. "Rachel said it was a fluke that we won the cooking challenge, and… She said my feelings for you are nothing compared to what she feels for Finn, so I shouldn't have won."

"She really said that?" Sam took her hands as she nodded. "Well, I've been doing some serious recon lately, and it sounds like a lot of people are voting off Finn and Rachel." Mercedes attempted a smile at the sound of this, but couldn't be genuinely happy about it. "It's sad to lose anybody. We're all friends, after all."

"Yeah… You right. Let's just try to enjoy this night." She stood and offered him her hand. "At least no one will be voting us off."

Kurt looked around and slipped into the voting booth just as Blaine emerged, and the two collided. "Ow-!"

He grabbed Blaine's arm in a death grip. _"Who did you pick."_

"Kurt. Calm. Down." The other man eventually slackened his grasp. Blaine looked around warily, then whispered, "Tina and Mike."

"What?!" Kurt shouted at full volume, and Blaine cursed and dragged him into the booth. "Why?! They're harmless!"

"Look, think about it strategically. The end goal is to win this game, right? Mike and Tina are totally a triple threat in that regard!" Blaine began listing, "They're both athletic－Tina relatively so, both great dancers, and yeah Mike can't sing but he's hella smart." Kurt twisted his mouth to the side as he considered this. "Whatever challenges come up, they could be dangerous."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"I know how badly you want to win," Blaine admitted after a short pause, and Kurt smiled at him. "Anyway, who are you going with?"

"Rachel, duh."

Blaine exhaled in resignation. "Kurt, Finn is your brother. And Rachel is like, your best friend."

"Rachel's ambition alone makes her a bigger threat than anyone else here! And once she finds out about the grand prize, she's going to stop at nothing to win. Seriously, we can't let her find out about that." Blaine looked doubtful. "Come on, Blaine. She's never going to know it was me."

"I think you need to reconsider," was all Blaine said, and Kurt glanced at him unsteadily. "You'll do the right thing."

As they left the booth, they passed Santana, and Blaine looked over his shoulder to see her giving them a sly smirk as she made her way over to Brittany.

"You know the plan, right?" she asked, draping an arm over Brittany's shoulders.

"Yeah. Klaine." Brittany answered flatly, and Santana nodded.

"That master bedroom is as good as ours." She high-fived Brittany, not noticing the sullen look on her face.

Upstairs, Finn knocked on the door to his bedroom, and Rachel turned from the vanity mirror to face him. "Hey, I was wondering where you were."

"I was just…" She set down her brush nervously, setting her hands in her lap. "Did you pick who I asked you to?"

Finn put his own hands in his pockets. "I'm not going to vote off my brother." Rachel closed her eyes tightly. "Rachel…"

"Kurt is the only other person who can stir up enough discontent amongst the others besides me. If we don't both vote for them, it'll be _us_ that leaves." She heaved a sigh. "If Santana weren't immune, she would be _so_ gone…!"

"You don't know that we're going to be eliminated…" Finn attempted to reassure her, but she was ignoring him at this point. "Rachel-"

"Come _on_, Finn! You know as well as I do that one of these days, be it tomorrow or the day after or the day after that, there's going to be a singing challenge! I _cannot_ miss that, don't you get it?" Finn sighed, and Sam knocked on their door, popping his head in.

"Votes are in."

Downstairs, the air was heavy as everyone waited around the TV. "No matter what happens, I want you all to know that I love you," Rachel declared, grasping Finn's hand tightly. No one replied, their eyes trained on the monitor's black surface. Finally, two names appeared.

**Finn and Rachel**

"Wait, what?" It was Santana that spoke up, purely puzzled. Even Rachel was too devastated to be outraged. Puck shook his head in disappointment at Quinn, who avoided his gaze, while Santana tried to meet Brittany's eye. "This shouldn't have- it should've been Kurt and Blaine."

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked her.

"Brittany?!"

"I switched my vote at the last second," Brittany shrugged, ever apathetic. "I just drew one randomly with my eyes closed."

"And so it was Finn and Rachel," Quinn nodded weakly.

"So then, it was just dumb luck?" Finn asked, confused and hurt.

"Sorry, Rachel," Mercedes offered, sounding truthfully remorseful.

**Pack your Bags and Get in the Limo Immediately**, the monitor advised. Rachel began to full-on cry, and Santana moved closer to Brittany.

"Why'd you change your vote? I mean, I'm not mad about Frankenteen and the hobbit being the ones to leave, but just out of curiosity."

Brittany showed a flash of anger, then said, "Because I didn't like how you were just using this game as a ploy to get what you want, at the expense of our friends."

Santana looked like she'd been slapped. "What? How?"

"You wanted me to vote off Blaine and Kurt so you could have their room!" Brittany accused, and Kurt's jaw dropped. "That's mean and selfish!" Tina covered her mouth in surprise, though mostly to hide her amusement, and Sam raised his eyebrows at Artie, mouthing "Drama."

"I'm…going to go upstairs and pack," Rachel breathed, quickly departing. Finn followed her wordlessly, and Santana stormed from the room as well, unable to meet anyone's gaze.

Blaine turned to Kurt, dropping his hands to his sides. "Well, I hope you're happy."

"No, wait, Blaine!" Kurt stopped him. "I didn't do it. I changed my vote at the last second too, like Brittany did."

"You chose randomly?"

"Yes. Or well, pseudo-randomly. I made sure I didn't pick Finchel or us, obviously." He involuntarily glanced at Sugar. "But, anyway! Point is you were right."

Blaine shook his head. "It's nice that you're trying to save face and all, but. Doesn't matter now." He walked off up the stairs.

Puck collapsed onto the sofa with a loud sigh. "It's like we never left McKinley."

"Talk about Drama with a capital D," Mercedes agreed, fanning herself.

"Should we sing about our feelings?" Sugar suggested, earning a resounding "No" from the room.

Upstairs, Rachel moved away from the door and sank down onto her bed, and Finn stopped packing to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Kurt…" she began, tears dotting her fake lashes. "He was going to vote me off, but he changed his mind. And I…!" She shut her eyes and clasped her hand over her mouth. "I'm such a horrible friend."

"Well, we're the ones voted off, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It does matter!" Rachel yelled, standing. "That I'm the kind of person who would do that… Nothing matters more." She shook her head at Finn. "I should've listened to you."

Finn smiled weakly. "Not everyday I get to hear that."

"No, Finn…" She walked over to him, taking his hands in hers. "You always know what to do." Looking up at him, she asked, "So I guess the real question is… What do we do now?"


	7. The Party to End All Parties

**A/N: **Drama over. Thank you guys for your continued support. Reviews are appreciated!

**Chapter Seven: The Party to End All Parties**

The monitor was blank when Rachel and Finn finally came downstairs. "Okay, I'm packed," she sighed bravely, squaring her stance. "I just want you all to know that-"

"Rachel," Quinn interrupted with a small smile. "We have something to say."

"Yeah, why did it take you 35 minutes to get packed? The limo is freaking gone," Puck drawled, and Mercedes kicked him in the shin.

"The limo _is_ gone," Quinn went on testily. "But only because Mike and Sugar left. In your place." Rachel's mouth opened in shock.

"The New Directions wouldn't have won the championship if it weren't for you two," Tina picked up with her ever-present smile. "And that's ultimately what this vacation is for. You two deserve it more than anyone. Mike realized that, so he volunteered."

"And…Sugar?" Finn prompted.

"Pretty sure Mike literally dragged her out of the house with him," Artie filled in, touching his glasses into place. "We all helped." Mercedes spread her hands in praise.

"You guys…!" Rachel beamed, clasping her hands together. "I don't know what to say…!"

"You're our leaders," Kurt supplied warmly, though he was looking at Finn when he said it. "It wouldn't be right for you to leave so soon."

"So you guys can stay," Quinn finished, and smiled hesitantly.

"Oh Quinn!" Rachel stepped forward and embraced her. "I knew you wouldn't vote me off…!"

"Oh no I totally voted for you."

"Guys," Sam cut in, pointing at the TV. "Looks like there's more." White lettering began to appear and everyone directed their attention to the monitor.

**Please head into the basement for your next challenge**

"Wait, there's a basement?"

Mercedes looked to the heavens. "And the whole not-getting-murdered thing was going _so well _too!"

Everyone began to look around, but there were no stairs leading down in sight. They exchanged dumbfounded glances as the screen changed to **Immediately**.

"Okay well where are the gosh darn stairs?!" Kurt cried in frustration.

"Maybe they're only accessible from outside?" Finn recommended, and while this wasn't the most sensible idea, it was all they had. "I'll go take a look," Puck volunteered.

"What kind of challenge do you think is waiting for us down there, in a basement of all places?" Santana asked, hugging her elbows.

"Oh hey, you're back."

"Wait, before we go down there, shouldn't we change clothes?" Tina asked, looking at her own silk chiffon cocktail dress. "I'd hate for anyone's nice outfits to get ruined."

"What if it's an event that _requires_ formal wear?" Rachel was quick to recover from her earlier heartbreak.

"Like…?" Sam raised an eyebrow high.

She looked at the ceiling for a moment. "I have no idea."

"I'm with Rachel on this one," Kurt agreed, opting to stay in formal wear for just a few more hours, even at the risk of ruining it. "Who knows, there could be a live audience for the next challenge!"

"In the basement?!"

Puck returned, but shook his head. The "Immediately" on the screen began to flash red.

"Doesn't look like we'd have time to change clothes anyway," Blaine sighed.

"Um, more importantly, what happens when that thing decides we out of time?" Mercedes asked with surfacing panic. "Is this place gonna explode?"

Sam looked up and stared at the wall. "It's the volcanoes."

"Okay, guys! Focus!" Finn called out. "Maybe there's an entrance hidden in one of the walls down here? Start looking for loose panels. Some houses are like that, right?"

"Definitely, like those old houses with tiny rooms and hallways that don't lead anywhere?" Brittany jumped in.

"That just upped the creepy factor."

Everyone wandered around the living room in their black tie outfits, the TV screen's blinking rate increasing until it was so fast the word was just red. "How much you wanna bet nothing happens?" Puck snickered, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

Santana went over to Brittany, who was tapping on the wall by the door. "Brittany, about earlier…"

"You don't have to apologize," Brittany replied. "I know you aren't that kind of person deep down. You just get fired up over competitions. It's understandable."

Santana hadn't been expecting such a forgiving and accurate assessment from Brittany, but nodded. "Yeah, well… I just want you to know I feel shitty about it. Mostly because…I hate disappointing you." At this, Brittany stopped and turned to her. "So I really am sorry."

Brittany hesitated, then nodded, "I know you are," and kissed her. Santana smiled at her and said, "Now let's find this creepy basement."

While Brittany and Santana were talking, Sam grabbed Mercedes's hand. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That…shifting sound. Like it came from underground."

Mercedes pressed her lips together and faced Sam. "Sam, there _are_ no volcanoes around here, okay? It was just a misunderstanding."

"You don't believe me?"

"Wouldn't it be hilarious if you had to open the door with some kind of key word?" Tina laughed, and Artie gave her a sidelong look.

"Have you been getting back into the Everclear?"

"'Olly olly oxen free'!" she shouted delightedly, laughing at herself.

"Or maybe you have to pull out a certain book from the shelves," Blaine caught on, and Artie shook his head, feeling like he was in the Twilight Zone. "What do you think? _Treasure Island_, or maybe _Robinson Crusoe_?"

"Well it's a murder basement, so…anything by Stephen King?" Kurt mused unseriously, and Sam rushed over to them. "Whoa."

"Did you guys hear that sound?" He looked paranoid and frantic, and they all exchanged perturbed glances. "That…grating sound? From the floor?"

"Have…_you_ been getting into the Everclear?" Artie whispered.

"Or something worse, like…acid?" Puck also asked, brow slanted.

"No, guys, I'm serious! Why does no one believe me?!"

The TV screen was in full epileptic mode by now, flashing black and white while the word in the center did a disco-assortment of every color. Finn finally turned it off. "Maybe there is no basement."

"But, our next challenge!" Rachel seemed eager to get back to the elimination contest despite what she'd just been through.

"Marshmallows is right," Santana sighed. "There's nothing in this room that indicates a basement."

"I'm telling you guys…!" Sam went ignored.

"Should we go to sleep then?" Blaine suggested, and everyone nodded and muttered agreements, starting for the stairs.

"Guys, it's only like, 8:30," Kurt pointed out, but Puck slapped a hand on his shoulder.

"It's been a long-ass day, dude. We hiked in the woods, cooked for our lives, hiked back, eliminated the crap out of two people, and then just searched the entire house for a room that doesn't exist."

"And you did all that on nothing but a spoonful of gruel and dried pasta noodles," Kurt pointed out reprovingly.

"That and about a half-liter of Everclear." Kurt staggered at the sound of this, and Puck narrowed his eyes at him. "What's your point anyway, Mom? You're not going to make us eat dinner, are you?"

"Cuz I'd be totally down for that," Mercedes chimed in.

"Mercedes, you ate like, two days worth of food during the buffet," Sam reminded her, and everyone. She beamed in recollection.

"Yeah I did."

"I just don't think we should go to bed on empty stomachs!"

"That explains why I got so drunk," Tina realized.

"No Tina, that's because you were drinking 190 proof alcohol," Artie intoned.

"I kind of agree with Kurt," Brittany shrugged. "That ground beef I ate straight out of the package really didn't do it for me." Santana turned to her, aghast.

"We did spend the whole night agonizing over the elimination contest," Rachel put in thoughtfully. "It would be a waste of precious vacation time to go to bed so early. And we're already dressed up, so…we should party!" Everyone cheered except Blaine, Finn and Quinn, who were apparently the token grandparents of the bunch and just wanted to go to sleep.

A "Blame It On the Alcohol"-esque montage started up as the party commenced, "Like A G6" blasting through the sound system. The Everclear was annihilated and Puck raided the entirety of the kitchen to procure three more bottles of spirits, which they began making their way through.

In said kitchen, Kurt was preparing food like he'd originally intended, Quinn assisting him in an effort to stay away from the party. Finn sat and watched, ever the designated driver.

"The thing about the basement is really bothering me," Finn said, scratching his hairline in puzzlement. Sam rocketed into the kitchen and tripped over a bar stool, either from the sheer speed of his entrance or drunken clumsiness.

"You, too?"

"Yeah, it's so weird that it would tell us to get into the nonexistent basement. It's gotta be somewhere!"

Kurt smiled at them both with pitying tenderness. "Oh you guys, it doesn't matter anyway! If we can avoid the challenges, we won't have to eliminate anyone else!" _That'll put them off their guard_, he thought to himself.

"Weren't you the one who said there might be a live audience down there, just waiting for us?" Sam reminded him.

"I'm with Kurt, this whole competition is just…stupid," Quinn sighed, and Kurt bristled slightly. "I just think-"

"Guys!" Tina dashed into the kitchen in a frenzy. "Artie just fell through the floor! Come help, quick!"

"Wow, and Puck thought _I_ was on acid...!" Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

"Hurry!" Finn leapt from his stool towards the living room. Kurt and Quinn just looked at each other and resumed cooking.

Indeed, a trapdoor-like section of the floor behind the sofa had disappeared, revealing a set of stairs leading down. "It just opened and Artie fell down there, chair and all!" Tina cried. "Oh god, do you think he's dead?"

"Only one way to find out." Puck and Finn nodded at each other before heading downstairs.

"Wait, take a flashlight!" Rachel called after them. A second later, Finn's phone flashlight illuminated the space. "Thank you!"

Artie was collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, chair across the room, but he was alive. "Whoa, that was…" He looked up and surveyed the space as Puck rushed to his aid.

"Dude, are you okay?" Finn asked, righting his chair. "What happened?"

"You're bleeding." Puck touched Artie's temple, fingers coming away bloody. Artie just nodded, seeming altogether pleased. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I drank a lot of alcohol, my friend."

"Well, thank god for that I guess." Suddenly, the trapdoor at the top of the stairs slid closed. "What the hell?!"

Upstairs, the others watched as the trapdoor shut, their reflexes too dulled by alcohol to stop it. "Nooo! Finn!" Rachel cried, literally crying. Kurt and Quinn watched this unfold from the kitchen.

"They desperately need someone sober in there, don't they," Kurt said, drying his hands. Quinn could only sigh lengthily. "Alright. The chicken cacciatore will have to wait."

"How did it open the first time?" Quinn asked once she reached them, hands on her hips.

"We have no idea!" Santana said, fighting to keep her drunk-tears at bay. "One minute we were all dancing and having fun, and the next Artie is just…gone!"

"Maybe it's some kind of pressure plate, like you need to stand on it for it to work," Sam deduced, and everyone turned to him in surprise at his lucid idea. "What?"

"Thanks for volunteering, then." Kurt shoved him onto the panel of space, which didn't move. "Now what?" They could hear Finn's and Puck's angry shouting from beneath them, and Artie's occasional drunken cackle at his predicament.

"Now…" Sam looked around. "Uh…I don't know, let's try to reenact the scene. Blaine, turn on the music." The dance party bass filled the room again. "Okay, everybody just start dancing, I guess." Everyone rose to their feet unsurely, then started awkwardly gyrating and waving their hands to the music, eyes on Sam and the panel. "No, like you mean it. And start drinking, too!" Everyone reached for their glasses in sync, taking a sip and looking to Sam for approval. "Guys, just act natural…"

"This is no use," Blaine sighed, giving up. "It was obviously triggered by something specific. Might not even be in this room." Kurt glanced at him, then sprinted back to the kitchen, Quinn following.

"I'll just be in here, prepping dinner!" Kurt called, turning every knob on the stove on and off. "Acting natural!"

"Just a perfectly ordinary meal," Quinn echoed, opening and shutting the stove door, the cupboards, the fridge. She peered back at Sam, but nothing had happened. "I hope those guys are okay down there…"

Rachel and Blaine joined them, worry etching their features. "What do you think is down there?" Blaine asked.

"Our next challenge, supposedly-!" Rachel gasped. "What if this is our next challenge?!"

"What, getting Artie out of the basement?" Quinn replied, skeptical. "That's a weird one, even for this place." But Kurt and Rachel had already locked eyes, staring each other down.

"Blaine, you said maybe it could be activated by a book on a shelf, right?" Kurt asked quickly.

"Uh yeah, but I really don't think anyone was reading during the pa-" Kurt had already taken off and was pulling every hardcover from the shelves onto the floor. "Oh god."

Rachel also ran into the living room. "Finn said something about a panel in the walls…" She proceeded to hit every square inch of the walls with her fists in rapid succession, Brittany joining in thinking it was a fun new game.

Santana watched them for a moment. "Wow, those two are really desperate to save Artie… Or more likely, Finn." When she saw Rachel and Kurt exchange heated glares though, she knew what was going on. "Oh wait a minute…"_ If I free them, maybe I can get another rose of immunity! Which means Brittany and I can stay another night!_

"Out of my way, Loach-lips!" She shoved Sam from the panel and knelt on it herself before taking the iron poker from the fireplace and wedging it between the floor and the trapdoor's edge.

Down below, Puck turned to Finn. "Is it just me, or did they try to get us out for all of 30 seconds before turning the music back on and going back to partying?"

"Do they really not care?" Finn shook his head in disbelief. Artie bled quietly in Puck's arms, occasionally murmuring something about lederhosen or blackjack.

Santana threw the poker aside. "Damn, it won't open."

Rachel and Kurt stood face to face in the center of the room, Brittany pouring them each drinks. "The only thing we haven't tried is drinking the rest of this alcohol, as that was _definitely _going on when Artie fell!" Rachel attested, taking her cup.

"Wait, Kurt, have you ever even had alcohol before?" Santana asked, scrambling to her feet and joining them. Kurt shook his head, looking admittedly nervous but determined. "Well, you probably shouldn't start out with this for your first drink," Santana advised, taking the bottle from Brittany.

"But, it's just wine," Rachel muttered as Santana took her cup away.

She brought a bottle of tequila over and put it in Brittany's hand instead. "This is much better."

"Thanks Santana," Kurt said so earnestly she _almost_ felt guilty, but she just shrugged and smiled. "Well, bottoms up, Rachel." The two toasted and downed what was in their cups while Santana staggered away, crippled with suppressed laughter.

"_Aaauughghh!"_

"_What the _[censored] _did I just drink?!"_

"Um, guys this might not be the best time…" Quinn said from the kitchen, surveying the living room that looked like a tornado had just blown through it and everyone in it. "But…dinner's ready."


	8. In Their Element

**Chapter Eight: In Their Element**

Nine people sat around the table that once seated fourteen, a meal of chicken cacciatore gently steaming at its center. Muffled screaming and possibly sobbing could be heard from the living room floor.

"Well, dig in," Quinn said, taking the first bite.

"I don't feel…very well," Kurt reported, leaning from his seat toward Blaine, who caught him.

"You have to eat something though. It might make you feel-"

"Shh!" Sam silenced him, holding up a hand for quiet. Everyone fell silent, except for Rachel who put her hand over her mouth and dashed from the room. Distant retching could be heard next.

"Um, what's with the code of silence, Sam?" Mercedes prompted him.

"When Blaine was talking, I thought I heard that sound again."

"You have lost yo damn mind, you know that?"

"Maybe we should put something on the pressure plate, just in case." Sam left his seat to set a heavy stone lamp on the trapdoor. "Much better." Everyone just exchanged wide-eyed looks and sighs over dinner at Sam's flash of crazy.

When he sat back down, everyone ate quietly for a few more moments. Rachel returned looking pale green, and Tina asked if Brittany could pass the salt, so she got pepper.

Sam set down his silverware, laughing shortly and scratching his hair. "You know, actually, what were you saying, Blaine? Earlier. Maybe som-"

"Sam. _Stop_," Mercedes demanded.

"No, seriously, I just- I have a hunch. Humor me, bro."

Blaine stared at him impassively, then exhaled. "Okay, I was saying… Maybe…if you eat…something…you will…feel…better." Blaine raised his eyebrows at Sam, who shook his head.

"Why are you speaking so slow?" Kurt asked Blaine in a whisper.

"Maybe when Rachel went and threw up?" Tina suggested.

"It was before that."

"What if we never get them out?" Santana asked, slightly fearful for the first time in a while. "I mean, what if Puck and Finn die down there?"

"And Artie?" Tina snapped.

"I'm assuming he's already dead."

Quinn massaged her temples with her fingers. "Can we please just enjoy this meal in peace?"

"I don't know, _Quinn_, it's kind of hard when Finn and Puck are literally trapped under the house!" Santana continued to rage.

"And! Artie!"

"Just- stop!" Blaine yelled, and they did, settling back into their seats. "Seriously, why does everyone here always have to fight all-"

Sam shot out of his seat. "There! It was agai- did anyone- Blaine!"

"Sam Evans, I will lock you in that basement myself if you-!" Mercedes threw down her silverware and made to stand, but the sound of footsteps from the living room had them all turning.

Puck emerged first, covering his left eye and half of his face with his hand, followed by Finn, carrying Artie. "Finn!" Rachel cried, leaping from her seat and starting towards him, but she stumbled so dramatically off the kitchen step that she crashed to the floor.

"You guys are alive!" Tina shouted, heading towards them. "Oh my god, Artie's bleeding!"

"And what happened to you?" Quinn asked Puck, who removed his hand from his face to show the beginnings of a black eye.

"I don't know, when that door opened, this giant concrete lamp came down the stairs. Hit me right in the face." Sam closed his mouth and turned back to his dinner. "But hey, we're out!"

"And there's food!" Finn headed for the table, dumping Artie onto the couch and bypassing Rachel altogether.

Santana paused, then turned to Blaine. "So, it really was you who opened the door…"

"It was?"

"Yeah…damn."

Blaine started to ask how, but Kurt reached up to stroke his face, missing by a few inches. "You did it, you won the challenge. Victory…"

Sam smiled at Mercedes a bit warily. "See, I told you I wasn't crazy…"

"You may have been right about the door, but you're still crazy."

They finished eating, treated Artie's and Puck's wounds, and gathered in the living room again. Rachel started to talk, covered her mouth with a sickened look, then went on, "So, if Blaine won the challenge, should we turn the TV back on?"

"The challenge?" Puck asked, and Tina nodded.

"Getting you guys out of there. At least, _we_ think Blaine did it. Or, Sam thinks that." She shook her head in befuddlement. Brittany turned on the TV, and the monitor lit up. With the same message as before, still flashing in psychedelic colors.

"What? So…that wasn't the challenge?"

"I don't think so," Finn said, looking at each person carefully before going on, "While we were down there, some weird stuff was going on."

Puck picked up, "Yeah, every now and then, one of the walls would rotate around. It was some serious James Bond shit, no joke." Mercedes looked at Sam, but said nothing. "I think we were all supposed to get locked in the basement, and our next challenge was…"

"The wall?" Santana asked.

"Or, whatever's on the other side of it," Quinn put in, and Finn's eyes widened.

"I didn't even think of that."

"So then let's go back down there!" Rachel proposed, standing abruptly with a slight wobble.

"I know just the thing to get that door back open," Puck grinned, standing and heading for the door, but stopped when Blaine spoke up.

"Wait, guys. Can't we do this tomorrow?" He sighed, looking down at Kurt where he rested on Blaine's lap, looking more dead than asleep. "Kurt is feeling sick, Artie just fell down the stairs, and Puck got hit in the face with a lamp. Plus it's getting really late. I think we should take a break before we start anything."

Artie－bandaged around the head like a mental patient－looked at Puck, who shrugged. "I had plenty of time to rest while I was down there, unconscious," Artie reasoned.

Before Puck could say he'd been hit with worse, Blaine went on, "But, we won't be at our best for the challenge. Almost everyone here is intoxicated, and pretty soon exhaustion will start setting in. It's almost midnight already!" It was 11:02.

Santana smirked broadly and stood in her evil stance. "Oh, I get it! You're worried that you're going to lose the challenge because your team is one man down." She flicked her gaze to Puck as Blaine started to protest. "Puck, let's get this door open."

"On it."

While Puck was out, Rachel took several swigs of water before dousing herself in it altogether. "What are you doing?" Finn asked her incredulously.

"Sobering up! Blaine is right. If I'm going to win, I can't be drunk, _or_ tired." She slapped her face and beamed at Finn. "How do I look?"

"Like…" Finn couldn't find the words.

Puck returned, brandishing a wood axe. "I saw this outside earlier while I was scoping the place out," he crowed. "Screw this trigger word stuff, we're opening this door the old-fashioned way!"

After much hacking and prying on his and Santana's part, the floor had a gaping hole in it, with stairs leading down. "Ladies first."

The basement was not a very large room, barren and stone, with nothing in it. Finn pointed to the left. "That's the wall that spun."

"How did you make it spin?"

"It just did it randomly." Everyone turned to Sam, who turned to Blaine.

"Okay dude… Do your thing."

"What are you talking about?" Blaine whined, clearly not having fun anymore.

"You have to open-" Sam stopped short as the wall spun, Quinn and Mercedes jumping out of the way. "Or- whoa. Is the trigger word 'open'?" Nothing happened. "Nah, that'd be too easy."

Blaine glowered at the wall for a few moments, then slumped. "Is it 'have to'?" And the wall spun obediently.

"Whooa!" Sam applauded, everyone else joining in gamely. "This is the coolest part of the house, by far!"

"It's definitely the most sinister," Quinn mumbled, standing far away from it.

"Well, somehow we have to get to the- dammit!" Santana cursed, leaping aside as it made another rotation. "…We _need_ to get to the other side somehow."

"I'll brace it with this." Puck held up the axe he brought down with him.

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked. "You'll have to get close-" The wall spun again, "-to it without getting hit."

"Don't worry my Jewish princess. Nothing can hurt the Puckster."

"Except that lamp," Finn scoffed, then looked at the floor. "Wait, that's it. Use the lamp!"

"The axe is wider," Artie argued.

"The lamp is freaking concrete though." They thought about it, then agreed on the lamp.

Once the door was successfully wedged, they stepped through the gap. Maneuvering Artie alone took about six minutes. "It's dark," Quinn said, and Finn reached for a light switch.

"I really doubt there's a light switch in a hidden room, Finn," Mercedes told him, but he turned on the lights all the same. "Oh what do you kno- oh _what in the sweet hell is this place?!"_

The room was magenta, extremely so. Everything was pink, red, gold or crystal, from the upholstery to the walls, carpet to the lighting. There was also an unobtrusive mini fridge, and a coffee table with snacks. A few sofas were set up around it, obnoxiously plush and velvety.

"I really think I'm going to be sick, again," Kurt breathed, taking in the room with a horrified expression.

"No wonder they locked this place away," Santana agreed, touching a fringed lampshade.

"Our next challenge has to be in this room," Tina observed, stepping deeper into the tacky lair.

"It would probably be a lot easier to find if my eyes weren't bleeding," Puck sneered.

"Look, a monitor!" Rachel shouted, pointing at one off to the side by the far wall, and behind it was a familiar red curtain. "Wait, is that…?"

"Oh my god," Quinn exhaled, smiling in disbelief. "It's a stage." Rachel was nearly catatonic with delight.

The monitor lit up, words appearing, and everyone arranged themselves on the upholstery, Kurt opting to stand. "'Your next challenge is'…" Rachel's voice left her as the words appeared, and Finn peered at her, but she was frozen.

"A…karaoke challenge," he finished. Two microphone stands rose from the stage and the curtains parted, revealing the golden wood floor.

"This is awesome, I'm actually super excited," Mercedes said, beaming at Sam.

"But wait, there's more," Finn went on. "It says…we have to redo our teams." Everyone's faces fell.

"Well, far be it from me to stop you all from fighting over me-" Rachel began, tossing her hair back from her shoulder, but Finn continued,

"We'll be drawing randomly for partners." Everyone ruminated in silence at the sound of this, and the screen changed. "And our songs will be random, too." The silence deepened.

"Well! This…might be fun?" Tina leapt to her feet, taking the velveteen top hat from the stage, where it had appeared. "I assume all our names are in here?"

"Can we just cheat?" Puck asked, and Santana nodded.

"No, of course not. Just…who wants to draw first?" No one moved, so Finn stood up. "I guess I'll go first."

Finn shook the hat and dropped his hand into it, staring at the ceiling as he shuffled the tabs. Everyone watched in anticipation as he drew a name, and his expression was unreadable as he said, "Quinn."

Rachel was absolutely shook, and Quinn hesitated for a few moments before standing and joining Finn's side. "Well, could've been worse." No one wanted to think about who she'd had in mind when she said that.

"Rachel, how about you go next?" he offered, as if to soften the blow. She stood angrily and paced to the front, reaching into the hat that Finn held out for her.

"I drew Blaine," she read, and they both looked delighted for a flash before remembering to look solemn and calm. "Okay. This is fine, I guess."

"You go next, Kurt," Blaine prompted, again maybe as consolation. Kurt strode forward.

"Tina," he read blandly, and she cheered and hugged him.

Artie drew Mercedes, Sam drew Santana, and that left Brittany and Puck.

"I literally can't imagine what kinds of songs we have in store for tonight," Tina laughed, but Mercedes looked dissatisfied.

"Um, Finn? I think we should redraw." Artie looked offended. "Not that Artie and I wouldn't bring the house down, but Rachel and Blaine are clearly going to win, even if they have to sing 'I'm a Little Teapot.'"

"Yeah, they're both the most heavily featured soloists in the New Directions," Santana seconded, folding one leg over the other and sitting back. "And Troutymouth is totally going to harsh my jam. Our styles don't really gel."

"Now, Mercedes, I completely understand your concern," Rachel began in her infuriating tone. "But fair is fair. We drew. Randomly."

"But it's _not_ fair!" Mercedes corrected her. "If you'd drawn Brittany, _that_ would've been fair."

"Eeexcuse me?" Santana rolled her head to glare at Mercedes. "Brittany is an amazing singer."

"Guys, that's just it. We're all amazing singers. It's going to be a tough call no matter how we draw," Kurt attempted to reason.

"Yeah, and besides, think about what Mr. Schue would want," Finn agreed. "He'd want us to try to find a way to sing with someone we wouldn't normally, and make it a success. Just think of it like an assignment."

"I did not fly to Mexico for vacation just to end up doing another assignment," Puck groused.

"Well, there's still hope that you might draw a really good song," Quinn said, taking a white top hat from the stage. "Or that Rachel and Blaine will get a bad one." They both frowned at her.

"Not to mention," Brittany piped up. "This might be judged on something totally different from singing ability, like the cooking contest was."

"Like what? Love, again?" Puck looked at Brittany, who regarded him back with a blank smile. "Nah, I feel nothing."

Santana and Sam glanced at each other, then quickly away. Artie and Mercedes shared grimaces, and Rachel and Blaine just beamed away at each other. Kurt stared at Tina, then conceded. "Oh god, this is hard."

Only Finn and Quinn were having any kind of a moment, but it ended when Rachel took the white hat from Quinn. "Well! I'll draw first!"

She shuffled her hand around and came up with a slip of paper. "It's…'Pour Some Sugar on Me.'" A second of silence, then the entire room burst into laughter. When it finally died down, one look at Rachel's and Blaine's faces had everyone breaking into a fresh peal of uproar.

"Didn't you two lose your virginity like, six days ago?" Santana asked, wiping away tears. "As if you could do a sexy song in a million years!"

"You two _are _super innocent," Tina agreed with a nod, still chuckling.

"I'm terrified at what else is in that hat, to be honest," Kurt swallowed.

Finn tried to stop laughing and reached into the hat. "Here goes nothing." He held it up for Quinn to read.

"'Cool.' By Gwen Stefani," she read softly. The room got quiet.

"I love that song…" Rachel breathed, hand on her chest.

"This just got very bad for us," Kurt stage-whispered to Tina as Quinn and Finn looked into each other's eyes and nodded.

"I know, that song was practically made for Quinn's voice."

"Me next!" Puck jumped up and reached into the hat. "Heyyy. 'Baby Got Back!'" The room applauded. "Brittany and I are going to slay."

Tina drew next. "'Son of a Preacher Man!'"

"_Oh hell no you did not!" _Mercedes erupted from the sofa, springing to her feet. "Put that back in that hat right now!"

"No, it's too late! I drew it!"

Artie drew next, and was pleased to see "Billie Jean" on the paper. The room collectively moaned at not getting Michael Jackson themselves.

Sam drew last. "'Santeria', by Sublime. Awesome, I love…violence?" Santana looked understandably thrilled by this, however. It was basically her theme song.

"Okay, who wants to go first?"

* * *

**A/N: **I did an actual random drawing for partners, so it was fun for me too and not rigged. And the songs were just based on popular karaoke songs acc. to Google, also randomized and drawn. "Cool" was originally "Torn" by Natalie Imbruglia but I saw that that was done in season 4. And I know "Baby Got Back" was too but I was too lazy to think of another one so it stayed. And that version didn't really count. :/


	9. To The Victor Go the Spoils

**A/N: **I could attempt to describe the karaoke performances in detail but it's really more fun if you use your imagination. :)

**Chapter Nine: To the Victor Go the Spoils**

Rachel and Blaine kicked the show off with an amusingly pure rendition of "Pour Some Sugar on Me", only made more insufferable by the audience's snickering and catcalling. Rachel wished she'd stayed drunk for that performance, and honestly so did everyone else, but they applauded respectfully once it was over.

Artie and Mercedes's interpretation of Michael's Jackson's "Billie Jean" was passable as well, with Artie singing most of the entire song while Mercedes sang embellishments and dished out the higher notes before hitting every single note in no particular order on the way down. It was artistry. The dancing left something to be desired, understandably.

Sam and Santana's version of "Santeria" was sung with lively and melodic soul, each of them looking into their respective corners of the room and not at each other. Sam unsurprisingly played acoustic guitar throughout.

Kurt and Tina took everyone to church with "Son of a Preacher Man," Tina's vocal runs on par with Mercedes's and Kurt singing as ever with pitch-perfect delivery. Mercedes appeared to concede and nodded in acceptance of this version, though silently she continued to insist she could've done it better.

Puck and Brittany rapped their song with panache, opting to include dance moves that had Santana covering Rachel's and Blaine's eyes, since apparently they were nine years old.

Finally, Quinn and Finn took the stage and sang an inspiring and beautiful song about being exes, which they were. They never took their eyes from each other, even to see the surfacing looks of revulsion and impatience on the faces of their audience. Rachel folded her arms and crossed her legs angrily until she was the human equivalent of a pretzel, and when they finished everyone immediately brightened and clapped as if they'd been watching the whole thing and not playing Spider Solitaire on their phones.

But at the end of the day, they were just doing basic at-home karaoke, not the New Directions performances they were used to with a live band and backup singers and Mr. Schuester smiling fondly in the background before rounding off each performance with a slow clap. It was them, two mics, a synthy background track and on-screen lyrics that none of them had the need to even venture a look at.

"Now we just wait for the results?" Finn asked, taking his seat on the sofa beside Rachel, who made a point of then standing and sitting at the other side of Sam, smashing him and Tina together in the middle.

"I swear, if I don't win for butt love this time, I don't know who will," Puck insisted.

"I think Mr. Schue would be proud of what we did," Tina put in, and Brittany straightened up.

"Oh yeah, last time he texted me he said he was having some trouble getting through customs. That's what's holding him up."

Sam looked to Finn. "We didn't even go through customs, did we."

"Sam, we've already established this trip is shady as hell, okay?" Santana sniped, rolling her eyes.

"No think about it, what if we're still in the U.S. or something. Like, the...Dominican Republic?"

"You're thinking of Puerto Rico," Artie corrected testily. "And if so, then where's Mr. Schue?!"

While they waited, the snacks were wiped out, as were the spirits in the mini fridge. Rachel had stormed to the back of the room and Finn followed her, inventing new ways to apologize. Mercedes, Brittany and Tina were having the equivalent of a sleepover a few paces away, gossiping shamelessly. Puck went to check on the trapdoor hole, and Artie was belting out an unfortunate attempt at Kid Rock on stage.

Blaine looked at the clock—which was chrome and bedazzled—with a sigh. "Now it's already past midnight..."

"Okay Gramps, so you missed your early bedtime," Santana moaned. "What are you going to do, call neighborhood watch?"

"Wait, is Blaine an old man, or a child?" Sam asked, bemused.

"I can't believe Rachel is making such a huge deal about my duet with Finn," Quinn griped to no one in particular. "She's not the only one who wants to win this stupid contest, you know."

"Don't worry, they'll get over it and start making out in..." Kurt looked at his watch. "Eight...seven..."

"Hey, the TV's back on!" Artie blurted out, nearly dropping his mic replacing it in the stand.

"Someone go get Puck, I want him to be here when we win," Brittany said.

Everyone got arranged on the upholstery together to watch the monitor, which read "Results are In" for several seconds. Finally, the names appeared on the screen.

**Finn and Quinn**

The expected chorus of disgust, outrage, bewilderment and disappointment filled the room, Quinn and Finn just looking at each other and smiling half-heartedly.

"So, love really is the only way you can win," Tina calmly rationalized as the others around her screamed at each other.

"Well, this show originally was based on the concept of romance," Blaine joined in. "Loosely."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn laughed breezily. "I don't love Finn. I just sang like I did. Love isn't the answer to winning; pretending is."

"Or maybe just...emotion in general," Sam supplied, stepping out of the way when Mercedes shoved Santana across the room.

"Wouldn't it have been more fair to give us all love songs, then?" Brittany asked. "I mean, 'Baby Got Back' isn't the easiest song to sing with emotion. Even though I totally did."

"True, it was totes unfair if that's the case," Sam said, crossing his arms to stare at Quinn, who returned the look.

"You could've serenaded the crap out of 'Santeria' if you really tried." She shrugged. "But you didn't try. None of you tried as hard as I did, and that's why I won. Get over it."

"Didn't you just say you were faking the whole thing?" Tina ducked as a lamp was thrown over her head, and a shrill cry pierced the air as Santana pulled Rachel's hair.

"At least you're taking it better than they are," Finn joined them, slightly out of breath with a panicked look over his shoulder at the area in front of the stage.

"No! I sang it a thousand times better than Quinn sang her song, that's the point!" Rachel shrieked, holding out a broken glass bottle to keep Santana back. "If you guys hadn't been heckling us the whole time, I could've had better concentration through the bridg-"

Kurt drew himself up to his full height and shouted, "If this is just a matter of singing the song well, I! Annihilated my song!"

"Well I _obliterated_ mine off the face of the earth in that case!" Mercedes screamed with a head toss. "Artie and I both did, and yet just cuz we didn't used to date, we didn't win?! I dun told y'all it wasn't fair, you shoulda listened!"

"Sam and I _did_ used to date and that's not the point anyway!" Santana yelled. "I'm not getting eliminated over this! I did a good ass job!"

"You know what? I'm angry too!" Puck joined in, picking up a flimsy end table and smashing it on the carpet. "I gave that song all I had! But mostly because being angry is fun."

"Guys!" Finn finally broke in after the others pressured him into it, and he grabbed Rachel's shoulders. "Rachel, remember when I was talking about the drunk, angry girl archetype? Well, that's you right now." He took the bottle from her weakening grasp. "That's all of you."

"Easy for you to say, you won," Kurt quickly said.

Santana shook her head at this. "That's it, the razor blades are coming out."

"No! Santana, just wait!" Finn held his hands out until they were all still. "You're all just scared of being eliminated. And you're extra sensitive because it was a singing challenge." They exchanged rueful glances at this. "You shouldn't be taking it out on each other."

"Finn's right," Puck said after a beat. "We should be taking it out on _him!"_

"Yeah! He and Quinn won, after all!" Mercedes joined in, and they quickly rearmed themselves.

Finn looked panicked again and turned to Quinn for help, so she calmly strode forward despite the threat of danger. "If you all feel so cheated about all this, then why don't you settle it the old-fashioned way?"

Puck glanced over at Brittany. "A dance-off?"

"A duel?"

"Fisticuffs? Wait, that's what we _are_ doing."

"A drinking gam-"

"Rock-paper-sci-!"

_"Pin the tail on the donkey!"_

Quinn's eyes widened. "You guys are too competitive for your own good."

"I think she means singing," Finn clarified. "Again. Only this time, you choose the songs. And your singing partners."

"Yeah. It's called karaoke, guys." Artie shrugged with a smile. "It doesn't have to be a contest. You can just use it to remember that even if you lost this challenge, you're all still dope singers."

Mercedes offered a skeptical shrug at this. "Fine. But I'm singing Beyoncé. 'Listen.'"

"Okay, then I'll sing Christina Aguilera after that," Santana said with a head tilt. "Maybe I'll try 'Hurt.'"

"Then I'll sing Mariah Carey next," Kurt said, and Rachel stepped up saying, "Then _I'll_ sing Lana Del Rey!"

"Then _I'll_ sing Whitney Houston!"

"Fine, I'll sing Adele, and then Celine Dion!"

"I think I'll just sing Eminem or somethi-"

"'Bohemian Rhapsody', but I'll sing every part!"

"'I Believe in a Thing Called Love', by The Darkness!"

"I'm going upstairs," Blaine sighed, and Tina, Sam and Artie followed.

* * *

When Rachel woke up the next day, it was 3:15 in the afternoon. She inhaled and rolled over to see Finn still asleep, though he stirred when she hit him indelicately with her arm while turning over. The other she used to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun coming in through the window.

"I don't think I've slept in this late...ever."

"Well what did you expect?" Finn asked groggily, his tone betraying nothing. "The sun was starting to come up when we finally went to bed last night. This morning."

"Oh..." She remembered the karaoke contest that turned into a straight up diva-off, and that was before they got back into the drinks. After that it was just sheer mayhem. "A whole day...gone."

"It happens," Finn replied absently, nearly falling back asleep, but Rachel sidled over to him, crossing her arms on his chest and laying her chin on them.

"So, will you convince Quinn not to vote me off today?"

Finn stared at her for a few moments, and then raised his hand to stroke her hair. "Rachel, there's something important I want you to remember..." She blinked at him in puzzlement. "We're on vacation. I know Sue or...whoever put together this whole competition thing, but we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves. And I feel like you're not doing that. You're just worrying about...winning. Like always."

Rachel drew away from him, then got out of bed. But after a protracted silence, she said, "You're right." She directed her smile over her shoulder at him, then added, "Like always."

Downstairs, Blaine walked through the kitchen to see Kurt at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. "Hey. I heard things got...pretty out of control last night," he greeted warily, taking a water bottle from the fridge.

"Yes, it's possible I may have...strained something," Kurt reported, touching his throat idly. "Let's just say it's good that you left when you did."

"Well Finn was down there to make sure you didn't kill each other, so I knew it was safe to go to bed." He paused, studying Kurt. "Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah... Did I miss anything? Like the elimination, the next few challenges, the rest of the trip...?"

"Not really, everyone's outside. Sam's been teaching me how to surf."

"I wasn't aware Sam knew how to surf."

"Yeah...I don't think he does."

Kurt turned to look at Blaine with a distant smile. "Do you remember saying how this 'show' was supposed to have all these romantic dates going on, amid the carnage and horror?" Blaine nodded. "That would be really freaking nice right now."

"Hey guys," Tina opened the sliding door and stuck her head through as Rachel and Finn came downstairs. "Perfect timing. They want us to gather at the pool for the next elimination."

"Already?!"

"Um, yeah, it's like...3:30." Tina disappeared, squinting at them in judgment.

"To be fair I think Mercedes is still asleep," Rachel informed them, retying the sash of her robe.

Outside in the sun—half the crew inexplicably still in their jim-jams—Tina read from the monitor. "'Please commence with the blind ballot voting at this time.'"

"There's a monitor out here, too?" Puck asked. "Disturbing."

"Okay guys, so the voting was really traumatic last time?" Tina was explaining. "So I was thinking this time, we should flip all the pictures around and just draw totally randomly."

"Like a blind...blind ballot?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah. And we can watch each other vote, to keep everyone honest. Make sure no one peeks. That way, we'll all be blameless. Whoever leaves will be purely up to chance." Tina threw her hands up. "What does everyone think?" No one said anything. "Come on you guys, I don't want to go through all that again. Once was enough. Let's just get it over with."

"But..." Kurt spoke up, holding up a finger and pausing for effect. "...What if it's me?"

"What if it's _me?"_ Santana posed as well.

"What if it's _me, again?!" _Rachel cried.

"It has to be someone, though!" Tina objected. "Except Finn and Quinn, obvs."

"Do not bring that up again," Quinn cautioned her through gnashed teeth.

"This way we can just...rip the Band-aid off, with no hard feelings! Pretty much the opposite of last time." Tina wrung her hands and studied everyone's faces. The pensive, the blank, the half-asleep. "And Kurt, if it's you, it'll be me, too. Remember all our pairs are different now." This caused everyone to look around at each other, remembering who their fate was now tied to. "So if you left, at least Blaine would get to stay!"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?!" Kurt sputtered.

"You're right, being separated from Finn is...unimaginable. I don't think I could take it if it did end up being me," Rachel sniffed.

"Whatever! Let's just do it Tina's way," Santana finally conceded. "If you get voted off either way, it's better to know that it happened by accident, and not because everyone hates you." She stormed inside and took the picture boxes from the booth to flip the pictures around, but in her haste, dropped them all on the living room floor. "Oh, great."

"No, that's perfect, Santana," Finn said. "That way no one can try to pull someone by remembering where their picture was." He started flipping all the photos face down on the carpet, spreading them out in a kiddie shuffle. "Just pick one up on your way to the ballot box, guys."

"This is ridiculous," Puck said, but led the movement. It only took about 40 seconds for everyone to vote. The tension was as palpable as it had been the first night.

"I hate this part," someone said, speaking for everyone. The monitor lit up with the results.

**Noah and Brittany**

"Wait, who's Noah?" Brittany asked, as Santana all but burst into tears.

"Dude, that really bites," Finn said, turning to Puck, but the other man just smiled.

"Nah, it'll be alright. Just be sure and cut me in on that prize money after you win," he replied, bro-hugging Finn. "I heard it's like, a quarter of a million dollars." The room fell silent at the sound of this, Blaine and Kurt exchanging quick glances while Rachel stared a hole into the side of Finn's head. "What?"

"Did you just say the winner gets a quarter of a million dollars?" Mercedes asked slowly, fully awake now.

"Yeah. Figured you knew that, and that's why you guys were going all Real Housewives on each other in the basement last night." He shrugged as everyone's gazes honed in on him. "I mean, why else would you fight like that unless heaps of cash money were involved?"

"Because we just wanted to win," Rachel answered tightly, then whirled on Kurt. "Right?"

"Wha-uh yeah absolutely! Who knew anything about this...money situation!" Kurt laughed nervously.

"I literally...can't afford to lose," Santana told the ceiling, pressing her hands together and seeming to forget about Brittany. The monitor, however, did not forget, and started doing its disco-rave light show again.

"Well, bye guys," Brittany intoned, bags packed. "It's been real."

"I could buy so many houseboats with that much money..."

"I could pay for college for like...everyone. Forever!"

"If I won I could just go vacation in France until I literally died!"

Puck and Brittany left without any further fanfare.


	10. A Trivial Pursuit

**A/N: **This chapter got super rOmAnCe as I was writing it y'all. :B Not my intention but it just felt right.

**Chapter Ten: A Trivial Pursuit**

Everyone was pacing or sitting around in the living room with their eyes on the blank TV monitor. Since learning about the cash prize, they were awaiting the next challenge with fervor, except Blaine and Finn, who found each other out by the pool.

"I finally got Rachel to realize that this vacation is about _us_ and not this competition, and then Puck had to go and drop that bomb on us..." Finn was complaining, busying himself by picking up the trash left over from the pool party.

"Tell me about it. Did you know this show is actually supposed to be about finding love, even tangentially?" Blaine agreed. "And yet I think it's safe to say everyone in that room hates each other." He held open the trash bag as Finn deposited more detritus inside. "Not to mention Brittany and Santana got separated, by force."

"That was hard to watch," Finn said with a wince. "And to think it could've been me, or you."

Blaine stared at him dejectedly. "It couldn't have been you, Finn, you had immunity."

"Oh yeah. I forgot. ...Sorry."

They were cut off by a medley of screams and hollers of surprise from inside and looked at each other. "I bet that's the next one, huh."

"Is the next challenge up?" Finn asked as he and Blaine stepped inside, but the screen was doing its scrambled white-noise thing, and Sam muted it. Several people were angled away from the TV, cringing or lowering their hands from their ears.

"No, it just decided to wig out," Sam reported. Finn couldn't imagine the horror of eight people sitting in a silent room staring at a blank TV and then having it do that.

"I kind of hope it's broken," Blaine said, but the room booed him. "Unpopular opinion, I know."

Suddenly, the screen turned a startling shade of vivid blue and a painfully familiar jingle emanated from the speakers. "Wait, I swear I muted this thing!"

"OMG!" Tina cried in delight. "It's Jeopardy!"

"This must be our next challenge!" Artie quickly got into position by Tina, then looked around. "It didn't say anything about having to stay with our old teams."

"Looks like it's you and me, Sandbags," Quinn sighed, and Santana sat beside her on the couch, mildly offended.

"How do you guys know this is the next challenge and not, like, cable?" Finn asked, but Rachel was already dragging him to their spot, front and center.

"More importantly, aren't Tina and Artie totally going to win this?" Mercedes asked. "You guys are on like, the Quiz Bowl team at school aren't you?" They merely grinned at each other.

"I think we've proven that just because you can do something better than anyone else in the room, doesn't mean you're going to win the challenge," Kurt reminded them with an edge to his voice. He moved to pull Blaine to their spot but the other man stopped him.

"Why don't we...bail on this challenge," Blaine asked Kurt hesitantly.

Santana dropped her head back to look at him. "Don't be embarrassed, I'm sure you know at least one thing. They might even have an entire category on preppy clothes!"

"I hope so," Kurt answered reflexively, then turned to Blaine. "You aren't serious, are you?"

"Yeah, I am. Let's just go for a walk or something, enjoy the scenery of this amazing beach and get out of this...room."

"That is a _great_ idea!" Finn piped up, moving to stand, but Rachel kept him rooted to the spot using all her limbs. "Rachel and I will be right behind you!" He slowly lumbered their way at a snail's crawl, dragging Rachel with him. "Just go on...get a head start!"

"Blaine, don't be ridiculous!" Kurt expostulated, still faintly amused. "We can't miss the challenge or we'll have no chance for immunity, and then we'll get voted off and we'll lose! We've been lucky so far, but it's only a matter of time before-"

"Don't you want to do anything _real_ on this trip, and not just compete in senseless games dictated to you by a monitor?" Blaine argued.

"Don't you want to win $250,000?!"

"Not as much as I want to spend time with you!"

Santana raised her eyebrows at Quinn in the ensuing silence, and Tina pretended to be occupied by her shoelaces. Blaine and Kurt stared each other down, and all that could be heard was Finn's labored struggle across the room. He finally reached Blaine's feet.

"Rachel... You're heavy."

"You can't abandon me!" she cried. "We are a team, Finn, and I can feel it in my blood this time we _will_ win!"

Finn detangled himself from her and stood, catching his breath. "Then, it sounds to me like you and Kurt need to team up for this one." He threw his arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine and I will go on our own...romantic walk." Rachel looked like she'd been slapped.

"And when you and Rachel lose..." Blaine said to Kurt in an injured tone. "I might just vote you off myself." He and Finn turned and left the building, Kurt looking more like he'd been sucker-punched. Santana had sunk into the couch with her mouth covered, reveling in the drama. Even Mercedes and Sam exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Artie adjusted his glasses and looked up. "'American Revolution' for $200 please."

* * *

Blaine and Finn walked along the beach as the sun set, gulls crying overhead. It was a picturesque evening, warm and balmy but with a faint breeze starting to come in. Crabs scuttled across the wet sand—not unlike how Finn had earlier—and disappeared into the surf without leaving a trace.

"This feels like a mistake-" Finn started to say, and Blaine immediately put his head in his hands.

"I knew it! We should turn back and apologize be-" He started to head back but Finn grabbed him.

"I was going to say...! This feels like a mistake, but I know we're doing the right thing." Blaine studied him with a tortured expression and Finn went on, "They'll come to their senses sooner or later, and there's no point in us going along with it just for their sakes."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. It's our vacation, too. And besides," Finn continued with a shrug. "Rachel and Kurt don't need us for the trivia game, they're two of the smartest people I know!"

Blaine nodded at this, but then tilted his head at Finn doubtfully. "Really?"

Finn smiled and nodded, adding, "Well, top 25 easily."

"I don't know, Finn..." Blaine began. "I was really excited when this whole thing started..."

"Yeah, you were pretty stoked on that plane ride," Finn recalled with a touch of repressed fear.

"But now that we're here and this competition is going on, I feel like nothing's going the way it should. I don't even recognize Kurt anymore!"

"Kurt has always been competitive, and so has Rachel!" Finn laughed. "And obsessive, greedy, selfish... But I know what you mean. It's like...coming here, I thought I'd get to see a different side of her." Finn stared off longingly into the sunset for a few seconds, and before Blaine could begin to wonder about the state of his retinas, he began to sing. _"You are...my fi-re. The one...desi-re."_

"Wait, Finn-" Blaine said but the man turned to face him.

_"Believe...when I say. I waant it...thaat way."_

_"But we...are two worlds, apart,"_ Blaine immediately picked up, Finn taking to air-drumming. _"Can't reach to...your heart, when you say... That I want it...that way."_

_"Tell me whyYY!"_

* * *

"I will take 'Opening Night on Broadway' for $200, Alex!"

It was finally Rachel's turn to pick, and everyone grumbled collectively at her obvious choice, sitting back and pulling out their phones. "Time for Rachel and Kurt's run of the Broadway category," Quinn muttered, opening Candy Crush.

"'On September 25, 1979 Patti LuPone sang 'Don-'"

"_Evita!"_

Mercedes turned to Kurt and Rachel with a po-faced stare as they high-fived each other. "At least let me finish reading the damn question."

"You two sure got over getting dumped really fast, by the way," Sam added.

"We weren't _dumped!"_ Kurt retaliated, though Rachel visibly wilted at Sam's reminder.

"Please, we all saw Finn and Blaine dump you guys for each other, okay? No point denying it," Santana snapped. "And Sam's right, you guys turned around and started losing this game so fast it's like you didn't even care about them to begin with."

"I'll have you know we happened to be in third place out of four thank you very much!" Kurt corrected, side-eyeing Sam who shrugged in full admission that he didn't know just about anything. "Now Rachel, let's just go for $1000 already. We know all the answers anyway."

Mercedes cleared her throat, paused to glare at them, then read, "'On December 20, 1981, Jennifer Holliday's Effie sang-'" She stopped and rolled her eyes. "I literally sang this in glee club y'all, WTF."

"_Dreamgirls_," Sam answered on a whim, scoring his team $1000 inadvertently. "Oh hey, I did it!"

"This category is way too on the nose for a bunch of theater nerds like you guys," Santana yawned.

"You mean like _us_," Tina amended. Santana flashed her the "Whatever" _W. _"I won't lie, this would make a super boring episode if we _were_ on a reality TV show."

"Which, I still haven't seen any cameras for, by the way?" Artie agreed. "If this really is that show with the grand prize, shouldn't it at least be recorded?"

"This whole thing is probably a scam, right?" Sam said. "Including the prize." Thunderstruck expressions all around. "'Broadway' for $800."

"If we are being recorded, the ratings from Blaine and Kurt's epic fight _alone_ would be enough to make this an instant financial success," Santana cajoled with a touch of delight.

"'On January 16, 1964 theatregoers at the St. James said howdy to this musical about Mrs. Levi.'"

"He certainly has a flair for the dramatic," Kurt replied sourly, folding his arms. "Also it's _Hello, Dolly_."

Mercedes squinted at him reprovingly. "Um, so do you, Kurt. Like, times a million." Pausing she added, "Maybe that's why you guys are so good together." Kurt looked down at the sound of this, and Mercedes studied him with sympathy for a moment before sitting up. "$600, anyone? Oh hey, it's the Daily Double."

"We will literally wager our entire pot," Rachel proclaimed without hesitation.

"'_The Wiz_ opened on January 5, 1975; this other Oz-set musical on October 30, 2003.'" Rachel and Kurt looked at each other, wide-eyed, and Tina just collapsed back against the sofa in exhaustion.

"I hate this game."

* * *

The sun was gone and twilight was beginning to overtake the remaining colors of the dusk in the sky. Finn and Blaine returned in light spirits after singing nearly the entire _Millennium_ album on the beach, only to find Kurt standing out on the sand in front of the house, watching the sea. Rachel was several paces down the shore in the other direction.

Blaine and Finn disengaged from each other and tried to look remorseful as they approached. "Hey, Kurt," Finn greeted first. "Is the game over?" He took in the sight of his brother's subdued posture, neutral expression and absence of the victory rose. "Did you guys win?" he asked anyway.

"It's still going on," Kurt replied idly, and Finn and Blaine glanced at each other cautiously before he turned to them with a weak shrug. "Rachel and I dropped out."

"What?! Why?" Blaine asked.

Kurt looked at the sky briefly before saying, "Oh, 'Lyrics of the Top 40 Songs' came up and I didn't feel like playing anymore." He took Blaine's hands with an apologetic smile. "Without you."

Finn smiled at them both as they embraced, then took off down the beach after Rachel. She was on her way back and looked up when she saw him. "Hey, Rach-"

She crushed him into a forceful hug, burying her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. "You don't need me to tell you again that I should've listened to you," she started saying, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "But...at least let me say I'm sorry."

Inside, the four reentered the room to see Mercedes/Alex Trebek turning to them with a smile. "Hey, you're back! Just in time for the last 'Top 40' question! '1983: In touch with the ground, I'm on the hunt, I'm after you, smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd, and I'm...'"

Kurt turned to Blaine, who rolled up his sleeves. "I got this."

Once the competition was over, the waiting game began, though it didn't take long this time because Artie had been keeping score all along. "Well, by my calculations..." He looked up a little worriedly. "And I really think someone should double-check my math here because-"

"I kept score, too," Tina broke in, unable to hide her grin. "And Kurt and Rachel won!"

Everyone just gaped at each other for a moment, Tina the only one clapping. The monitor lit up with their names, extremely delayed. There was no confetti.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Um, yeah, you guys doubled your money on that Wizard of Oz question," Santana reminded them. "That pretty much sealed the deal."

"And then _Sam_ had to go and try the same thing, and we _lost_ our entire pot!" Mercedes cried, and Sam held his hands up and answered, "I just wanted to say 'Let's make it a true daily double, Alex!' Just once!"

"Congratulations, you guys," Finn told them proudly. A small cannon dropped down from the TV monitor and shot a rosebud at Kurt's chest, then fired a stemmed rose at Rachel, hitting her in the face, but she caught it and beamed up at Finn. "Believe it or not, somehow, you two deserve it. Probably."

"About that," Kurt began, and they turned around. "We want to give them to you, actually." Rachel held hers out to Finn as Kurt did the same to Blaine.

"Us? But we..." _Just karaoked on the beach for an hour..._

"Thanks to you, we don't care about winning this game anymore," Rachel explained. "So take it."

"But...you guys finally won a challenge." Finn gave Blaine a panicked look. "And no offense, but that's probably not gonna happen again."

Rachel and Kurt grinned at each other. "That's okay with us!"

"Is it really though?" Mercedes asked as an aside to Santana, who shook her head and mouthed "Denial."

"You guys are the real winners here. Because you didn't play that stupid game." The two finally accepted the roses, and the others broke into applause. Tina smiled at Artie, who nodded in return.

_"Awlright let's partay!"_

"But, we don't have any more alcohol," Tina said. "In fact, I think what we did have left, Puck took with him."

"Oh...well then let's at least have dinner?"


	11. A Survival Pursuit

**A/N: **And this chapter is basically Adventure. Just can't seem to stick to a genre.

**Chapter Eleven: A Survival Pursuit**

Tina and Artie snuck downstairs thinking they were up early, but rounded the corner to the kitchen to see Quinn and Mercedes, chatting idly over coffee.

"Good morning you two," Quinn greeted.

"I know, it's pretty early, huh?" Tina asked, pleased with herself. "Did we surprise you?"

Mercedes furrowed her brow. "Um, we could hear you pulling Artie's chair down the stairs for like, the past five minutes. We knew you was coming." Tina slumped. "And it's almost 9:00, what are you even talking about?"

"Well where's everyone else then?" Artie asked.

"Kurt and Blaine finally decided to go have a date somewhere they could be alone, so who knows. Rachel and Finn had the same idea and left about twenty minutes ago."

"Basically they're making out somewhere," Quinn rolled her eyes, clearly radiating jealousy.

"As for Santana and Sam, they're outside on the beach." Tina and Artie looked at each other, and Mercedes set her coffee down. "What are you guys sneaking around so not-early for anyway?"

"We wanted to surprise everyone by...eliminating ourselves," Artie reported, and Tina nodded. "We knew the stress of the upcoming elimination would put everyone in a bad mood. We were dreading it ourselves, so last night we decided we wanted to go home."

"Taking one for the team, like Mike did for Rachel back then?" Quinn asked. "Because let's face it, it was going to be Rachel getting eliminated today, guaranteed."

"Yeah. Plus I miss Mike." Tina shrugged. "And Artie..."

"I'm just really not having that much fun with this whole beach thing. Wheelchairs and sand...aren't a great combination." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But we've had a blast while we were here! We just think it'll save everyone some heartache if we leave of our own free will."

"That's really noble of you guys," Mercedes smiled, then turned back to her breakfast. "Well, see you."

"Yeah, bye guys. Let us know how the flight goes." Quinn reopened her magazine.

"Oh, and we'll be sure to pass on word of your goodwill to the others as well!" Mercedes reassured them. Tina and Artie just exchanged disheartened glances, then headed for the door.

Quinn and Mercedes sat in glorious silence for a few more minutes before the sliding door rushed open and Kurt burst in, Rachel right behind him. "Guys, you'll never believe what we-"

Santana slammed the front door open so hard it cracked a little and came inside with Sam. "Hey guys! I think I found our next challenge!"

Quinn and Mercedes looked back and forth between the two pairs a few times as they stared at each other as well. "We found something way better than that!" Kurt finally spoke up, Rachel beaming in elation by his side. Blaine and Finn appeared at the door behind them, looking exhausted.

"Hang on, where are Tina and Artie?" Finn asked.

Mercedes quickly ran through what transpired, throwing in a bit of "May they rest in peace."

"Okay, anyway!" Rachel threw out a hand to get them back on track. "While we were...outside, Finn and I found-"

"A cave!" Kurt interrupted. "And Blaine and I found it before you guys showed up."

"To be honest it's creepy and I don't want to go back," Blaine intoned.

"Wait, you guys were all at the same place?" Mercedes asked. "Didn't you go off to be, you know, alone?" The four of them avoided eye contact with each other, as the entire incident had obviously been awkward. "Anyway, continue."

"Or better yet, don't," Santana cut in. "A cave? Who cares. Here's our next challenge." She slammed a weather-worn treasure map in front of Quinn. "It's like a scavenger hunt or something. X marks the spot-style. And I'll bet you anything that's where the grand prize is."

"So that means, we're technically finalists?" Quinn asked.

Kurt and Rachel turned to each other in surprise, then tamped it down a little, remembering they weren't supposed to be excited about the competition anymore. "Well _I_ bet the treasure is in that cave," Kurt deduced with a falsely serene tone.

"Indeed, and _we're_ the only ones who know where it is," Rachel added in equal solemnity. Santana folded her arms and glared at her. "Yes that's right. If you had just let Kurt and me talk for five more seconds, you could be on your way there. Now, we'll never tell."

"Whatevs, I'll find it on my own," Santana replied blithely. "I'm assuming this is every man for himself at this point? Competing in pairs just means you have to split the money with someone, and I ain't about that life."

"Well, the rules of the show state-"

"They don't matter," she cut Blaine off. "I found this map under a rock on another rock, and it almost washed away in the tide. Clearly the pretense of this being anything official is gone. The name of the game now is 'Take the money and run.'"

"Not that I should even need to say this..." Finn started. "But we should stay paired up for safety. This island could be huge for all we know, and we don't want anyone getting lost or separated."

Rachel linked arms with Finn and Kurt. "Okay, well we're going to head for the cave, and you're _not_ going to follow us."

"Yeah, and we'll follow this actual map, so we'll be going..." Santana eyed the parchment for half a second before she finished, "The literal opposite direction of you guys!"

* * *

"Hey Santana I think we're lost."

The sun was high overhead by now and the glee students were soaked with sweat, Quinn and Sam starting to show signs of sunburn on their noses and shoulders. "I think we should take a break and regroup."

"I wish I were with the cave group right now," Quinn sighed, resting her hands on her knees. "At least it would be in the shade."

"Relax guys, we'll be out of the sun in no time," Santana rallied, holding the map up. "I can see the forest up ahead."

Mercedes lowered her chin to her chest at the sound of this. "I know this isn't the first time anyone's asked this, but...are we gonna die on this trip?"

The answer could only be yes, as the next thing they came across was a narrow chasm in the ground that separated them from the other side. Inside the chasm was a drop of several hundred feet, and they could see the forest down below.

"Where did this huge drop-off come from?!" Mercedes asked. "I could swear the ocean was right behind us!"

"We seem to be on some kind of mountain," Sam noted in agreement, then looked up in realization.

"This whole time we've been going uphill? Explains a lot, actually," Quinn puffed. Santana brought a thick branch over and used it to span the gap. "Seriously? We are not crossing that."

"It's the fastest way. Or would you rather go all the way back down?" Santana looked at Quinn, who sighed and stepped forward. "Come on, we're Cheerios. We have good balance. Mostly."

"Crossing a limb between two cliffs was never part of the Coach Sylvester's curriculum, though I have no doubt she wished it had been." Quinn alighted on the other side and turned around. "Come on Santana."

"I'll bring up the rear. You go next, Mercedes," she nudged the other girl, but Mercedes shook her head adamantly.

"Hell no I ain't crossing that tiny limb and falling to my death in terror! I want to be asleep when I go."

Sam stepped forward next at Santana's beckoning, and crossed the limb with relative ease. Once he neared the other side though, his foot slipped and the branch shifted under his stance. Quinn pulled him to safety, but the branch rolled over the side of the cliff and fell for a long time.

"Damn, now Santana and I are going to get another chance at life. How could you, Sam," Mercedes blandly said while Santana glared at him.

"Nice going, Flippers. Now what are we going to do?"

"I guess you'll have to start going around," Quinn said, arching an eyebrow. Mercedes was all too happy to take off in the other direction. "Just try to meet up with us...wherever you end up."

* * *

The inside of the cave was cool and dark, dimming to near blackness the further they got from the entrance. "I have a really bad feeling about this place, guys," Blaine moped. A flock of bats could be heard screeching up ahead, echoing until the sound faded.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, you know," Rachel admonished. "The greater the risk, the greater the reward."

"With great power comes great responsibility, yeah yeah we know," Finn sighed.

"Are you just going to spout platitudes all day or help me navigate this place?" Kurt snapped, and Rachel turned her phone flashlight on. Everyone was temporarily blinded. "Okay maybe that was a bad idea."

"This whole thing is a bad idea."

"Oh look, a path!" There was indeed a worn path on the ground that led through the cave.

"That's not ominous at. All."

They walked along with Kurt in the lead, followed by Finn, then Rachel, with Blaine at the rear. "I kind of agree with Blaine, this place is pretty spooky," Finn admitted to Rachel after a while. "And I'm not just saying that because I think you and Kurt are insane." She frowned at him. "Not that I think you're insane!"

"Well I think it's exciting!" Rachel protested. "It's an adventure! We'd never get to do something like this back in Lima."

"We'd never _want_ to," Blaine mumbled.

Kurt stopped at a stalagmite and drew a letter _K_ on it with white chalk. "Oh, that's a great idea!" Rachel enthused. "So we can follow the trail back if we need to."

"Why did you bring chalk to an island vacation?" Finn asked. "Not that it's not super convenient that you did."

"It's tailor's chalk," Blaine supplied. Kurt nodded and started on his way again.

"And why'd you write a K and not something normal like...an X," Finn inquired further.

"Using an X is _so _passé, Finn, seriously," was Kurt's reply, and Finn rolled his eyes. "Looks like the path forks here."

"Let's go right," Finn suggested just as Rachel said, "We should go left."

"Why left? Right is always right."

"Left is born into our instincts, why do you think the English language is written starting from the _left_?"

"Both really solid arguments guys, but- Blaine, what do you think?" Kurt redirected.

Blaine shook his head and pointed randomly. "I don't care. Left."

"See, I was actually thinking we should go right," Kurt folded his arms in thought and Blaine threw his hands up, stalking off.

"Whatever! I'm going left!"

They agreed to alternate left and right every time they reached a fork in order to keep going in some semblance of a straight line. Eventually they lost track though and then they agreed to just go right every time until they realized this meant they would be going around in circles.

"Fine! Next one we come to, we go left!" Kurt decided, pacing ahead.

"Why are there so many forks to begin with and-" Finn looked at his watch. "How long have we been in here? This place is endless!"

Rachel swiveled her light over to them and gasped at the ravine of black off the side of the path. "Finn, there's-!"

"Kurt, look out!" Blaine called, and although Kurt turned to him, he still lost his footing off the edge of the path. Blaine lunged forward and pushed him to safety in time, and Finn similarly felt a pair of hands shove him to the side as well, knocking him to the ground.

"Whoooaoa!"

"Fiiiinnn!"

The voices of their comrades echoed deeper and deeper down the side of the cave's path as Kurt and Finn sat in pitch blackness. Finn fumbled for his phone and switched on the light to see that the right edge of the path was a sheer empty cliff face that disappeared into nothingness.

"Holy crap..." Finn breathed, turning to Kurt, who was staring in wide-eyed shock at where their friends had been standing mere moments ago.

"Did they just fall off that edge?!"

"This seems familiar somehow..." Finn thought, then shook his head. "Maybe I'm thinking of when Artie fell down the basement stairs."

"This is a thousand times worse than that, Finn!" Kurt answered shrilly, and Finn approached the edge on his hands and knees.

"Rachel! Blaine!" he called, his voice echoing. There was no answer. "Guys?! Can you hear me?!"

"Oh god..." Kurt moaned, burying his face in his hands. "Blaine just died saving my life."

"They're not dead," Finn shot back. "Unconscious, maybe, but we're going to find them! Stand up." Kurt continued sobbing. "Kurt, nobody died. Get up already." He hauled his brother to his feet.

"Hey, you're bleeding," Kurt observed, and Finn touched the side of his head where he'd hit the ground.

"It's nothing."

"No, what if you're concussed? Hang on." Kurt knelt back down and rummaged through his knapsack, producing a straight needle and red thread. And a thimble.

"You are not getting anywhere near me with that," Finn warned him. "How in the hell do you manage to have basically an entire sewing kit in there and no first aid supplies?"

"I can't change who I am, Finn," Kurt exhaled testily.

Finn touched the wound again, wincing at the sting. "What about fabric?"

"Oh, like swatches? Unfortunately no, but..." Kurt looked down at his shirt, but Finn held out a hand to stop him.

"It's fine, I'll use my own. I just got you to stop crying, after all." Finn tore a strip of his T-shirt off and pressed it to his injury. "Quick question: if I have a concussion, about how long do I have left to live?"

Kurt stood and readjusted his bag on his shoulder. "Your guess is better than mine. You played football, didn't you?"

"I just hope we can find them before I like...stroke out or something. Let's go."

* * *

"We've been walking forever and still no sign of Sam and Quinn," Mercedes groaned, dragging her feet. She and Santana had finally made it back to sea level and were now entrenched in the rain forest. "I honestly just want to forget all about this treasure hunt and start heading back. It's going to get dark soon, you know."

"Yeah, we'll be camping out here, tonight," Santana declared, slashing through an overgrowth with another branch, this one fashioned into a makeshift machete. "No way to make it back to the house before sundown."

"Girl are you crazy? We'll be eaten by whatever's living in this jungle. If not the animals, then the bugs." She swatted at the mosquitoes in her face.

"I can endure a few bug bites for $250,000," was Santana's riposte. There was rustling up ahead and Santana held out a hand to stop Mercedes in her tracks. "I think something's over there."

"Do you think it's like...a lion?" Mercedes whispered, and Santana glared at her. "Okay, a tiger then."

"We're in Mexico, supposedly," she answered impatiently. "It's more likely to be a-"

"Oh so like an armadillo or something."

"I was going to say jaguar." The rustling got closer and Santana brandished her machete. "Stay back, Aretha, I'll handle whatever it is." Mercedes covered her eyes.

The brush up ahead parted and two figures stepped into the clearing, but they weren't the tow-headed companions Santana had been hoping. She lowered her machete in puzzlement. "Rachel, and...Blaine?"


	12. Treasure Island

**Chapter Twelve: Treasure Island**

Four individuals with dark hair of varying yet astounding degrees of volume trekked through the rain forest as the sun began to set, bathing the sky in a purple twilight. The area was made only dimmer by the thick canopy overhead, and soon it was too difficult to see.

Santana threw the spear she'd fashioned into the ground. "We'll camp out here."

"What? We're going to sleep out here in the wilderness?!" Rachel shrieked, looking around as an owl hooted. "We'll be killed!"

"That's what I said!" Mercedes threw in.

"What's the alternative, keep walking through the night in hopes of reaching a viable shelter before we collapse from exhaustion?" Santana started working on making a fire while the other three stood around lamenting the thought of sleeping on the dirt. "I'm not crazy about the idea either but we don't have a choice! Now help me create a fire." She glanced up. "You already look the part of indigenous cavemen."

Once they were all huddled around the fire－the air having grown cold as night set in－Mercedes gave Rachel a sidelong look. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask, but how in the hell did you two end up in the middle of the forest? You set off in the opposite direction from us."

The pair exchanged withered glances before Blaine replied, "Yeah we were going through the cave and everything was going fine and great, so safe really, no danger at all-"

"We fell off the edge of a drop-off," Rachel cut in. "And ended up falling down this pit for like, a solid ten seconds before we landed in a pile of leaves."

Santana pointed a stick at them and squinted. "That explains the uncanny resemblance to bushes."

"When we came to, we were in the forest," Blaine finished with a shrug.

"The other two weren't with you?" Santana asked. "I am seriously surprised that lumbering oaf of pure shortcrust pastry dough wasn't the one who fell down the hole. Though Kurt probably cartwheeled out of the way like the magic elf we all know he is."

Rachel was still reeling from how offended she was so Blaine spoke up, "Actually for your information, they did almost fall."

"Called it."

"But we were able to stop them." He frowned at Rachel hesitantly. "Do you…think they're looking for us?"

"Of course they are! And- the only reason we even happened upon you guys," Rachel said, glaring between Santana and Mercedes, "Was because I had to pry Blaine away from trying to crawl back up that pit to see if they were okay. I knew we had to get help, or at least meet up with them somewhere else."

"Meeting up with the other half of the group seems to be the theme here," Mercedes sighed.

"Oh yeah, I literally just noticed Sam and Quinn are not with you," Rachel blinked.

"Well, our situation involved a cliff, too, but thankfully no one was falling off it." Santana stood and dusted her hands off. "Let's get some sleep and maybe tomorrow morning we can work on catching a rabbit for food or something, I don't know."

"Are we going to _live _out here?!"

* * *

Finn stopped walking, forcing Kurt to stop short behind him. "You know what I just realized, Kurt?" he began.

"That as soon as your phone battery goes out, we are going to have _zero_ light in this pitch black cave?" Kurt attempted to sound light-hearted. "Seriously, keep walking."

"We should've jumped down that pit after them, as soon as they fell," Finn said, shaking his head. "Because if they were okay, then we'd be there with them. If they weren't okay, like they broke their legs or something, we'd be there to help them."

"If they broke their legs, we'd also break our legs," Kurt reminded him. "And if they _were _alive, they probably wouldn't be for long after you and I landed on top of them." Finn frowned in thought at the sound of this. "Saving ourselves and getting out of this cave is the best thing we can do. It's why they shoved us out of the way, after all. So we _didn't _go off the cliff." Kurt studied his brother. "You would seriously jump after them?"

"I just don't like the thought of leaving Rachel down there alo- … without me. What if we never find them?" Kurt gave him an unconvinced look, but Finn shoved him aside, carefully and after checking for drop-offs. "I'm going back. We have to go back."

"But, the exit has got to be this way!" Kurt protested. "We'll never find our way all the way back to that h-" Finn shined his flashlight on a bright white _K_ slashed onto a rock with chalk. "Oh…damn me."

Kurt followed Finn back a few turns, trying to convince him all the while that they needed to find the exit and get real help. "And then what, huh? Wait around for the authorities while Rachel and Blaine rot helplessly in this cave, dying of starvation?"

It was at that moment that Finn's phone powered down, and the area was rendered black. Kurt gasped and immediately grabbed Finn's sleeve while Finn pounded the dead phone against his hand, because that always works. "Crap, now what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, crawl around on the ground until we find a hole to throw ourselves down?"

"Kurt, be serious."

"I don't know… Seems like now, we're the ones the authorities will be coming to rescue," Kurt declared, sitting down and pulling Finn with him. "Because there's no way we're getting out of here without a light."

"Isn't there anything in your sewing kit that can-"

"Oh yeah, let me just get out the _high-powered LED flashlight_ I have with me that I didn't think to use until right this second!" Kurt shrilly replied. Finn was quiet, then asked, "Really?"

"_No!"_

All the same, Kurt rustled through his bag while Finn drank the rest of their water in a fit of panic. "All I have is this thread, and- what's this bobbin doing in here?"

"So that really is a sewing kit," Finn muttered, just as a small metallic ting sounded. "What was that?"

"Dropped it," Kurt sighed. "Gone forever, now." They could hear the bobbin rolling away for several seconds, and Finn turned to where he thought Kurt was sitting.

"I can still hear it…?"

"Oh please Finn, it wasn't that important. I can get another one for like-"

"No I mean, are we on a slope or something?"

"...Should I care?"

"Really, I think I remember hearing something about lava tubes, and how you're more likely to find an exit if you head uphill…" Finn stood, Kurt scrambling to his feet by his side.

"Where in the hell did you pick up that nugget of wisdom exactly?" Kurt snapped as Finn tested his theory with his now-empty water bottle. "And did you say _'lava tube'?!_ Are we in a volcano?!"

Finn nodded in recollection with a broad smile. "That's right, Sam was talking about it on the plane. Come on, let's go this way." He grabbed Kurt's hand and started heading in the opposite direction of the bobbin, using his other hand as a guide along the wall.

"You'd better be right about this…"

"Worst case scenario, we fall down a pit and get reunited with Rachel and Blaine! It's win-win."

* * *

"Well I don't know about you," Sam guffawed, hands on his hips. "But _that_…looks like a freaking volcano to me."

"Sam, will you shut up about volcanoes already?" Quinn groaned, though she had to admit that from where they were standing on their quasi-cliff, the mountain up ahead did bear a resemblance to the top of a volcano.

"Let's go up there and jump in. I've always wanted to dive into-"

"We're out here trying _not_ to die, remember? We need to get back to Santana and Mercedes." She stalked off ahead of him. "Maybe we can find a shortcut down to the forest floor from the other side."

"Come on, it's the highest point on this entire island! Think about the view!" Despite warnings from Quinn, Sam sprinted for the mountaintop, leaving her to trail after him.

The view was spectacular. They could see the forest, the beaches all around, and even the beach house. The warehouse was a distant glint of light, and the airport was a small area on the other side of the island. "Well, at least we know how to get back now," Quinn reported, shading her eyes. "This actually was a pretty good idea. Now we can try to find the others. Or the treasure." But Sam was speechless beside her, just taking in the sight. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just stoked that I was right about this volcano."

"You… This still isn't a volcano." She fell silent, nothing but the sound of the wind around them. "How high up do you think we are?"

"I don't know, like…50,000 feet?"

"Um…" Quinn looked over her head at the sky in puzzlement.

"_Oh look!" _Sam scampered down the side of the mountain at a brisk pace, slipping twice and reminding Quinn each time with heart-pounding clarity how he almost fell off that branch earlier. When she reached his side, he was standing before an object half-buried under the scree.

"It looks like…" She tilted her head at it.

"A treasure chest." He wasn't wrong, but it still sounded absurd.

Once they uncovered it and set it upright, Sam tried to open it. It was locked. "Shouldn't be surprised. This thing looks a thousand years old."

"But, it's gotta be the prize for the game, right?"

"I don't know, Santana has the map. Let's just carry it back to the house first." Quinn grabbed one side and Sam the other, and together they hoisted it up, but could only walk a few feet before they had to lower it again. They looked at each other blankly. It was going to be a long descent.

* * *

"Left!"

"No! Right!"

"I know what I'm talking about, and we're going left! We've literally already been through this before!"

"Yeah, and look how that turned out for you guys! You fell down a pit in a cave!"

Mercedes returned from the bushes with a green look. "Sorry, that rabbit stew really isn't sitting well with me… Aw hell no, are you guys _still_ fighting?"

Santana glowered at her. "I'm trying to convince Rachel that we need to go this way. The map says the treasure is to the right of where we are!"

"And I'm telling you, Blaine and I had to navigate plenty of forks in the road, and when we said we should go left, we were right. Er, correct!" Blaine nodded emphatically.

"Well that was in a cave, and it was one time! And _you guys fell off the freaking edge of a giant hole in the ground! So your advice sucks!"_

"I'm with Santana, we should follow the map," Mercedes added.

"Because that's been working out _so _well for you guys so far," Blaine retorted. "My instincts may not be very good, but they saved Kurt's life."

"We think" Rachel quipped.

"And my instincts are saying to go this way so that's the way I'm going." Blaine walked off, Rachel following. When Mercedes headed after them, Santana grabbed her arm.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?"

"Santana, it's more important that we stick together as a group than it is to find the treasure," she reasoned. "Those two are obviously just going to be stubborn, so it can't hurt to follow them a while longer. Besides, without us there, they might wander off another cliff."

"But the whole reason we're out here is to find the treasure." Santana held up the map. "What's the point if we just go the wrong direction?"

Mercedes tore her arm from Santana's grasp and glared at her. "Fine, then I'm going with them because I'm still mad about that stew you made us eat."

"I am keeping you bitches _alive_ out here-"

"Rachel wait up! Blaine!" Santana watched the other girl hustle after the two, then after a few moments, clicked her tongue and started after them.

"Hang on, I'm coming too!"

Blaine's "instincts" ended up leading them to a clearing, in which there was a natural pool of crystal clear water supplied by a radiant waterfall. Mysterious flowers lined the area and exotic birds could be heard all around, their vibrant plumage visible among the foliage. The quartet stood and stared with their jaws dropped.

"Alright Blaine, I concede full credit to you for finding this paradise," Santana admitted, stripping off her shirt and sprinting for the pool. "But I am totally washing off this jungle right now." She cannon-balled into the water with a flourish.

"Come on, the water is perfect, you guys!" Mercedes shrugged and headed for the water's edge as well. Blaine looked up at the waterfall and considered diving in, but figured he'd had enough of falling off great heights for the time being.

"Seems a little callous to be enjoying ourselves in an oasis while Finn and Kurt could be trapped in that cave still," Rachel posed gloomily, sitting at the edge of the pool while the other two splashed in enjoyment. She hugged her knees to her chest and Blaine joined her side.

"Yeah… But we did save their lives, right?" Blaine turned to her. "Surely, I mean…maybe we deserve this-"

"Say no more," Rachel deadpanned, and they all but raced each other into the water.

"This feels amazing, y'all!" Mercedes crowed. "Best vacation ever! Aside from pretty much every other thing that's happened since we got here."

"True, this is really nice." Santana floated on her back, staring at the sky. "I just wish Brittany were here to enjoy it…"

* * *

"Water… I hear water…!"

"Wait, Finn." Kurt reached after him half-heartedly, nearing his limit of exhaustion. Finn still had the energy to run towards the surfacing light at the end of the tunnel. He saw a silvery flash of cascading water and headed for it before numbly tripping over something in his path and freewheeling through the curtain of water, into the pool below.

Kurt looked up, squinting against the light ahead. "…Finn?"

Mercedes furrowed her brow and looked at the waterfall, then shook her head. "I must be dehydrated or something because I am seeing things."

"You're in an entire pool of spring water," Santana intoned. "I've been drinking it since I got in here."

A figure abruptly leapt up from the beneath the water nearby, splashing violently and coughing for air. Mercedes shrieked and headed for the shore alongside Santana, paddling frantically. _"Holy shee-!"_

"Wait, was it just Blaine?" Santana asked, stopping, but Blaine emerged from the trees nearby, arms full of coconuts.

"Was what me?" he asked, and Mercedes and Santana resumed shrieking and fleeing the pool. Only Rachel ventured to the edge to see what hapless creature had surfaced.

"Oh my god…Finn?!" she cried, stomping into the water to help him to his feet. He finally caught his breath and wiped the water from his eyes, taking in the sight of his friends before him. "What- how are you here?"

"Where am I?" he asked, and Blaine shoved Rachel aside to grab Finn.

"Where's Kurt?!"

Finn looked around for a few moments, then looked behind him and stared at the waterfall. Then pointed at it.

Mercedes arched an eyebrow steeply. "Did you hit yo head on the way down…?"

While Rachel and Mercedes nursed Finn back to health, Blaine and Santana crept along the rocks towards the waterfall. "Why am I totally not surprised Kurt lives behind a waterfall like some kind of mermaid…"

"What?!" Blaine hollered at her, unable to hear over the waterfall's din.

"Nothing!" she beamed back with a thumbs up. "I just said your boyfriend is a mermaid!" Blaine looked confused, then nodded and continued to climb.

He grabbed onto a slick ledge behind the waterfall, surprised when a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him up, and he came face to face with Kurt. "Thank god you're alive," Blaine exhaled, hugging him.

"That's my line."

"Um, a little help?" Santana coughed, elbowing her way onto the ledge and slipping.

"Blaine… You're going to want to see this." Kurt moved aside to show him the object that Finn had inadvertently tripped over. A treasure chest.


	13. Homeward Bound?

**Chapter Thirteen: Homeward Bound?**

"Alls I'm saying is that map was totally wrong!" Santana groused, wrapping her long hair up into a turban as she descended the stairs. Kurt and Finn were studying the map on the coffee table as Rachel affixed a bandage to Finn's temple. Blaine was making everyone food, despite his reluctance to let Kurt out of his sight, and Mercedes was keeping watch out the front windows for any sign of Sam or Quinn. "Where we ended up wasn't anywhere near that X!"

"That's probably because you had it upside down," Kurt declared, turning the parchment scrap the other way around. "If you look at it like this, that path leads straight from the house to the clearing."

"Wait, seriously?" she slumped.

"Yeah, in fact it's amazing you ended up finding it at all."

"Well, Blaine led us to the clearing," Mercedes reminded them, and Rachel frowned deeply at her, opening her mouth to object.

"But Kurt was the one who found the chest!" Blaine protested from the kitchen.

"Technically, Finn's foot found it first," Rachel chimed in.

"Doesn't matter, we can't get it open," Finn sighed. "I wish I knew what Puck did with that axe."

Blaine set heaping bowls of pasta and spaghetti sauce on the table as Mercedes turned around to them. "Guys! I think I see Quinn and Sam. They've…got something with them."

When they opened the door to see Quinn and Sam carrying in another treasure chest－identical except much more weather-worn－they shared dumbfounded expressions until Blaine summoned them to eat.

The meal was silent and fraught with anxiety over the two treasure chests sitting unopened in the living room. Everyone was too nervous to have an appetite, but too hungry to do anything except scarf down the entirety of the food.

Once it was demolished, they reconvened in the living room. Rachel even glanced at the monitor for some kind of guidance, but it was silent for once. "Okay so…how do we decide who gets to open them?"

"Obviously, Sam and I get this one." Quinn kicked the old treasure box unceremoniously.

"As for the other one…" Sam eyed them all warily before declaring, "Rock paper scissors!"

"Finn and Kurt found it," Mercedes decided for everyone while Santana cracked her knuckles. "They should open it. And who knows, maybe it's empty."

"Don't say that."

"_This _one sure isn't." Quinn kicked it again.

"Okay, on the count of three," Finn said, readying the rock he'd found outside to break open the padlock. Sam did the same. "One, two-" Sam busted his open and Finn turned to him.

"Oh, didn't you say 'count of two'?"

"...Who _says_ that?" Finn sighed and broke the lock.

Everyone gathered around and inside, stacks of dollar bills were nestled inside a giant plastic bag, seeming to gleam in the light. The room gasped and cheered at the sight. "Oh my god, do you think it's…?"

"$250,000?" Santana breathed. "I hope so, because I could use a new pair of-"

"What the heck is this?!" They all collectively turned to Sam's box, which was full of coins.

"Gold?"

"No, it's like…" Quinn let an assortment of coins fall through her fingers. "Dimes and pennies. Loose change."

"Maybe it's still worth a lot?" Rachel asked hopefully, but by the looks of it, it was mostly pennies.

"I can't believe I carried what probably amounts to $56 down the highest point of this island," Sam breathed, disappointed. Quinn glowered at him.

"_You_ can't believe it?"

"Guys, these are…" Blaine unpackaged the stack of bills and flipped through them.

"Please don't tell me it's Monopoly money," Kurt put in hastily.

"No, but they're all singles." Blaine dropped it back into the chest.

"What?! One-dollar bills?" Santana erupted. "I was thinking they were at _least_ twenties, if not like, Benjamins."

"So this is probably closer to…" Finn couldn't do math. "Well, it's way less than $250,000!"

"Maybe it wasn't the grand prize?" Sam shot back around to stare at the monitor, but it was still blank. "Dang."

Everyone was silent in their disappointment, staring at the money they'd discovered, which somehow wasn't enough to justify the pain and suffering they went through to get it. Especially the coins. "Well, you all know what I'm going to say," Blaine started, stretching his arms over his head.

"Yes, and the answer is _no_, you don't get the money just because Kurt found the treasure chest, which Finn tripped over _first!"_ Rachel spat.

"Can we stop bringing that up already," Finn mumbled.

Blaine just glared at her weakly. "I was going to say we should go to bed." Everyone looked at the clock. It was about 7:30 in the evening, but they were all beat and relished the thought of having their old beds back.

"Oh…Good idea."

* * *

The next morning Blaine awoke feeling refreshed, and as soon as his eyes opened, he had a revelation.

"We have to get off this island."

When Mercedes came downstairs, she found Blaine and Sam sorting through the bills. "Hey! Don't even think about trying to steal!" she snapped impulsively.

"We're not!" Sam began to explain, managing to sound guilty as hell when he did. Blaine gave him a disappointed look as the blond went on, "We were just...seeing how much it was! I swear!" Mercedes narrowed her eyes at him, not buying it for a second.

"Actually, that is what we're doing," Blaine admitted with enough sincerity that she relaxed. "I had the idea last night that we should split this money evenly amongst ourselves, and then use it to buy tickets back home."

Mercedes looked for a flaw in this plan, but realized there was none. "Nice thinking. Honestly I'm glad you're still here, Blaine. Once we lost Tina and Artie, the overall IQ of this group pretty much tanked." Sam frowned, and Blaine looked faintly proud. "You doing the coins too?"

Blaine looked over his shoulder at the other treasure chest, untouched. "Um... Definitely not."

"Well, I'll help out. How much have you counted so far?" Mercedes sat cross-legged across from Sam, who gaped at the other two, mouth ajar.

"About that... I lost my place when you came down, so we have to start over," Sam winced, and Blaine dropped his head to his chest. "Counting single dollar bills all day is hard, and that's coming from me!"

By the time the others made their way into the kitchen and did the coffee shuffle, the trio had counted $4,000. "That's actually perfect, so everyone gets $500. That should be plenty to get tickets home," Blaine surmised as he stood up, knees cracking.

"And that monitor really hasn't come on at all since?" Mercedes asked. "If that's the case, that means the contest is over, which means this is the grand prize." She waved a hand at their perfectly-formed stacks. "4,000 measly dollars. Never thought I'd say that."

"That's a far cry from $250,000," Finn observed, startling Mercedes who had her back to him. "Also a random yet weirdly convenient number?"

"$500 each, are you freaking kidding me?" Santana of course was the one to complain, folding her arms.

"Maybe it would be worth it to count the coins after all?" Sam suggested, but the other two just looked at him murderously.

"Nothing on all of Earth could be worth that."

"Okay, so the next issue," Quinn got them back on track. "How are we going to get to the airport? Without the elimination limo, we-"

"E-limo-nation, heheh," Sam chuckled, and pretty much everyone glared at him.

"-don't have any transportation to get there."

"Wait, we're leaving?" Kurt asked, alarmed.

"Dude, catch up."

"We could walk?" Rachel suggested half-heartedly. "It's how we got here from the airport, after all. And that was even during a storm! I bet the route back will be a piece of cake."

"Yeah, like the first thing I want to do after camping out in the jungle yesterday is go right back outside on another expedition," Santana muttered as she threw her arms up. "You guys figure out the logistics. I'm hitting the pool."

The group decided they would get more critical thinking done outside in the sunshine, so they took to the beach. They managed to forget about all their problems until late afternoon. They reentered the house to find the breeze from the open windows had strewn their loose dollar bills and some sand all over the living room.

"Did you featherbrained noodleheads seriously just leave the money lying around on the floor?!" Santana had to ask, looking to the ceiling for salvation. "Anything could've happened!"

"You make it sound like someone's going to come in and steal it," Mercedes scoffed, Sam looking repentant.

"Yeah like who, the local raccoons we have for neighbors?" Kurt laughed, but then added gravely, "Because they are getting to be a real problem."

"I meant more like, it could've all blown out the window?" Santana replied tersely. "But yeah no, you mean the coati? They're cute though."

"You know, there's no real hurry to get out of here," Finn said, handing Blaine a broom and taking one for himself. "Just now we were having a blast outside. It's like we're finally on our vacation, now that the monitor has shut up."

"But eventually we'll run out of food...?" Blaine began, but then looked dubious. "Actually, it _does_ seem to keep restocking itself..."

"Nah, you right though Blaine," Mercedes jumped in. "Eventually we have to get back to the real world. Find jobs and all that, since we graduated." She stole a glance at Sam. "Well, except you two."

"But do we really?" Santana mused, propping her hands and chin on the top of her broom in thought. "We could just live here...forever... No responsibilities..."

Everyone rhapsodized over this potential life for a moment before Kurt cut them off. "Well, at the very least, our parents would worry about us."

"Would they, though...?" Santana posed.

Kurt looked unamused, but then consumed with doubt. "Oh god, _would_ they...?"

"Guys," Blaine laughed. "We obviously have to go back. We can't live here. First of all, I would lose my mind living with all of you." He gestured to them all, mostly in Santana's direction. She gave him a look of disapproval right back. "And second of all... Nah, I can't get past the idea of living with you guys, just seeing you day after day." He laughed and shook his head, continuing to sweep.

"Wow Blaine, you used to be so nice," Mercedes sniffed.

"He's got a point though," Quinn returned with distaste.

"Okay it's more believable coming from you."

"And second of all...!" Rachel picked up, beaming gloriously. "I would never be able to become a fantastic, successful Broadway starlet if I never even made it there!"

There was a beat of silence, and then Santana said, "Okay yeah get me the hell out of this place."

Everyone packed up their luggage and met at the door, then went around the living room shoveling varied approximations of their share of $500 into their pockets and bags. Once all the bills were picked up, Sam gave a final rueful glance to the chest of coins before turning. "Well, we're out of here."

They walked for a while until they came to a fork in the road with a weathered, illegible sign. "So...which way?" Mercedes asked innocently, earning an immediate cacophony of groans and protests from behind her.

"Not again!"

"Anything but this!"

"I still say we should go-"

"This is _not_ the time to be taking chances on your instincts! Just give me the map-"

"Oh I'm not giving _you_ the map!"

Mercedes turned patiently to her cohorts, catching Finn's eye. "Finn, you led us down here through torrential rain last time. Surely you can direct us back?" She waved an arm at the sign and Finn stared at it emptily.

"Uh...sure! This way, guys!" Everyone followed him to the right, some reluctantly. This method continued until they lost the road altogether and were faced with a grassy hill in the middle of nowhere, seeming not any closer to their destination.

Quinn sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Well so much for that brilliant idea."

"Yeah where to next, Thundercakes?" Santana stared icily at Finn. "This game of Follow the Leader seems to have gone horribly awry, and it's going to get dark soon."

"I'm sure it's just on the other side of this hill!" Finn declared a touch defensively, and together they crested the knoll, suitcases dragging. The sight that greeted them rendered their eyes wide and jaws slack, suitcases toppling. "Oh...my god."

Sprawling through the valley ahead was a full-blown special-ops obstacle course, complete with rope ladders, nets, pits, ramps, monkey bars, and what appeared to be spikes, all over a spread of mud. There might've even been some fire there towards the end. It went on in every direction, seemingly impossible to go around. And beyond it, they could see the exterior wall of the airport.

"What is this even doing all the way out here?!" was all Rachel could think to exclaim.

"Are we going to have to go through that?" Sam asked.

"Impossible," Quinn immediately rebuffed.

"Do you think this is part of the...challenge?"

"But, we won already!" Mercedes cried, thinking of the paltry prize they'd found. "Or, at least I thought we did."

"How would you even get eliminated from this? Death?" Kurt guffawed, but Santana strode forward, rolling her neck side to side.

"I'm not worried about it. If we have to cross it, we should be fine as long as we all take our own pace." Some looked minimally reassured by this. "Only thing is, we'll have to leave our luggage behind."

Hearts sank all around, people gasping and protesting in despair and Kurt simply stating, "That's not happening."

"We don't have a choice," Finn agreed with Santana. "The airport is right there. Who knows how many days it would take us to find another way around." He turned to everyone, some still grappling with the idea of leaving their belongings on this hill. "Like Santana said, if we all just focus on making it through in one piece, we'll survive. Plus we can help each other!"

"This doesn't seem so bad, I guess." A few people sauntered forward to take their marks, leaving Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, and Quinn. "Come on, you guys. It's just _stuff._"

Kurt opened his mouth to protest vehemently but it was Quinn who spoke, "You're right, I'm not worried about that part. I just...I think we're being too simplistic about this." She shrugged as the others stared on. "All along we've been tackling every challenge we're faced with as soon as we're faced with it. Never stopping to ask why, or...do something else."

Blaine vividly remembered trying to postpone the karaoke challenge, and Finn recalled walking away from Jeopardy. Even Puck was somewhere reminiscing on how passionately he'd questioned the cooking challenge at first, and then suggested they cheat at drawing singing partners. But they remained silent.

"I'm sure there's a better way to get to the airport, with our suitcases. This wasn't here when we first got here, was it?" She waved at the jungle gym and viper pits.

"No, but that doesn't mean someone didn't set it up sometime between then and now," Santana argued. "Face it Quinn, there is no other way. This has all been carefully engineered by Robot Sylvester to make sure we'd end up here and nowhere else. She probably...erased the road and put up confusing signs just for that purpose."

"You still think Robot Sue is behind this?" Mercedes asked, and Santana just flung an arm at the fire hoops and army nets. "Fair."

"We're not giving up just because we're deciding to do this obstacle course," Blaine reassured them. "We're just...really tired and we want to go home. Okay so we're totally giving up."

"It's just that this obstacle course seems like less effort than...going back and getting lost and doing that all over again," Finn shrugged, radiating defeat and apathy. "Wherever we go, we go together, though. No more separating the group." Everyone could agree with this.

"Alright. Well then let's go," Rachel said with an unspoken "Since Finn said so," at the end.

The four walked forward to join their friends at the top of the hill. Kurt discreetly tried to bring his suitcase with him but Blaine emphatically mouthed for him to _"LET IT GO ALREADY."_

"Okay, on three?" Santana lowered her lids at Sam. "For real this time."

"One...two...thr-"

Santana took off like an Olympic track star, literally leaving everyone in the dust. "Hey!" Finn called, but Sam was already running after her, arms pumping, so he followed. Not to be outdone, Rachel started running but immediately tripped over her shoelace, forcing Finn to turn back around. Quinn sighed and set forth at a leisurely stroll and Blaine turned to Kurt, who hadn't moved. Mercedes seemed like she'd stepped back, going negative distance.

"Well, everyone's got their own pace, I guess."

* * *

The beach house appeared to be listing slightly in the lazy ocean breeze, and a man strolled up the front steps in the hot afternoon sun with a relaxed sigh. He raised a hand to knock on the salt-dried door, but there was no answer. "Guys?"

The door was unlocked so he pushed it wide and stepped over the threshold. William Schuester smiled broadly at the room, arms open. "Alright guys, I'm finally here. I made it!"


	14. Hills and Valleys

**Chapter Fourteen: Hills and Valleys**

"Santana! Get back here!" they could hear Sam hollering, and Rachel looked up at Finn, her face the first of many to be besmirched by dirt.

"I can't believe her! We're not even competing anymore and Santana still has to be the best at everything!" Rachel huffed as Finn double-knotted her shoelaces.

"Yeah, well you _are_ the one who fell on your face trying to catch her," Finn commented. Blaine and Kurt finally set off at a light jog, and Mercedes followed in what could only be called a trudge. "Come on, let's try to catch up with the others."

Once a few minutes had passed though, Santana was a mere speck in the distance, Sam not far behind her. Mercedes was a similar speck but in the other direction. The others shuffled through the mud together in the middle, or tried to.

"It's just mud, Kurt," Blaine said, in a tone that sounded like it wasn't the first time. "It's perfectly harmless! I'm sure it'll wash right out."

Kurt looked thoroughly unconvinced. "Please, these pants are dry-clean only, to say nothing of this shirt, which is _silk faille!_ I shouldn't even have to tell you-!" He broke off with a gasp as a splotch of mud made contact with his aforementioned shirt. Only delighted by this, Blaine turned around to see Finn lowering his mud-caked throwing hand.

"There, see?" Finn smirked, nodding in approval. "You're invincible now."

Kurt was trembling with horror and rage. "How..._dare you...!"_

Rachel leapt to Kurt's defense by plastering a glob of mud on Finn's shirt and face with a grin. "Don't worry, I got him back for you-! Eeee- no!" Rachel laughed as Finn picked her up and deposited her in a pool of mud.

Quinn watched this all transpire with surfacing revulsion, but figured it would be impossible to keep her church-quality eyelet dress safe from the earthy elements. She and Blaine dragged Kurt into the mud fight until he accepted all hope was lost.

Mercedes finally happened upon the scene and arched an eyebrow high. "Um... What on God's glorious and righteous green earth are you all doin'?" They stopped and stared at her, but she just smiled and shrugged. "JK, sign me up."

In the meantime, Santana and Sam were down at the finish line arguing. "Face it, Flounder! I beat you fair and square! You might be super fit but you didn't have to endure the hell that was Coach Sylvester's cheerleading regimen!"

"Oh, you want to talk about fair and square, huh?" Sam began, pacing. "Well here's a secret. The guys and I threw the volleyball match." Santana's jaw dropped angrily. "Yeah that's right, we let you win! Because we felt sorry for you!" He spread his arms.

_"I'm gonna kill you!"_ Santana snarled, charging at him, but he held her back, just as Finn and the others joined them.

"Hey guys! We made it!" Blaine greeted. Sam and Santana turned around to them.

"Oh he- OH WHOA JESus chr-!" Sam recoiled, Santana shrieking momentarily at the sight. Finn reached up and touched his face, oblivious, smearing the mud even worse. "...Man that course really did a number on you guys!" Sam settled on, smiling.

"Yeah well I'm just glad it's over," Quinn exhaled. "Now come on, let's go book our flight."

The Fright Squad made their way across the airport towards the nearest counter. The woman jumped slightly when she saw them but attempted a winning smile anyway. "Welcome! How can I...help you today."

"We need eight tickets to Ohio," Sam demanded.

"Anywhere in...particular?"

Sam shrugged. "Nah. Literally just get us to anywhere in Ohio." She paused, then began typing in earnest. Sam gave them a thumbs up.

"Okay, it's going to be $3,771 for all eight... Do you have any money?" she asked in a tone as if she were addressing children. She watched in bewildered silence as they all began reaching in various pockets, shoes, socks, waistbands, and bras and produced crumpled one-dollar bills, one after another. She quickly and discreetly paged Security.

Sam smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry, this might take a second," he said, reaching as far down his pant leg as he decently could. She just covered her mouth in awe.

Once they were finished, some of them out of breath, Finn gestured to the disheveled money pile. "That's all we got! Oh, I guess we should've been counting, huh..." Security chose that moment to show up.

"Please remove these vagrants," the clerk directed. The muscular man reached for Sam and Finn, but Blaine jumped forward.

"Wait, hear us out! Okay, I know we're a bit dirty-" The clerk rolled her eyes extravagantly. "-and the money, yeah it's questionable. But we're just- we're lost and we'd really like to get home."

Rachel picked up on his pleading tone and threw in some fake tears, stepping towards the clerk. "We lost all our belongings an- and we came all this way...! Please, we're just kids!" She burst into tears, Finn doing his part to comfort her while looking appropriately dejected and confused.

The clerk regarded them with a po-faced stare, but the security guard's lip was already wavering. She clicked her tongue. "Ah jeez, just help me count this money at least."

They ended up about $49 short, and Quinn just sighed and brandished her black Amex. "You had that this whole time?!" Santana asked her incredulously.

Once they were paid up, the clerk handed them their tickets. "Okay here you are. Leaves tomorrow at four th-"

"Wait wait, tomorrow?" Kurt interrupted. "We need to leave today!"

"We have to!" Mercedes echoed, flashbacks of the obstacle course racing through her vision.

"I'm sorry, that's the earliest we have available," the clerk replied, sounding not at all sorry. "Besides, I assumed you all would want to get...freshened up and get a good night's sleep before your trip home. Plus I don't see any luggage."

"I told you we lost all our belongings!" Rachel screeched, abandoning her orphan persona for that of an enraged tourist.

"We don't want to leave tomorrow, we just want to get on a plane right now," Finn explained, his mud-stained clothes once again receiving a critical glance.

"We'll fly standby if we have to," Blaine added desperately. "Please just...don't send us back out there."

The clerk stared into Blaine's incredibly sad eyes for a good five seconds before returning to her computer. "I'll tell you what... Why don't I call a cab to take you back to where you're staying for the night?"

"Because we ain't all gonna fit in one cab," Mercedes intoned.

"...Two cabs, then. Does that sound alright?"

"Better than alright," Finn answered as everyone sighed in relief. "You may have just saved our lives."

The clerk offered a tight smile in return. "Great. Where are you all staying?"

"That murder house-"

"-the one out there all by itself?"

"-place with all the crazy monitors every-"

"-never-ending food supply-"

"-you know, by the beach?"

The clerk said nothing, and Blaine said, "It's the Bachelor Pad house."

"Oh you're _those _people-!" she replied with a shrill laugh, which she immediately choked down. "Ahem, that explains...a lot. The cars will be waiting just outside."

* * *

Back at the house, the gang lumbered through the door to the sound of swing music coming from a record player no one had seen, and the scent of a freshly-cooked meal filling the room. They looked at each other warily until a familiar figure rounded the corner, causing them all to flinch.

"There you guys a-!" Will dropped the dish he was holding onto the floor at the sight of them, shattering it and spilling green bean casserole across the tiles. As he took in the sight of them, mouth ajar, they were all equally shocked to see him standing there.

"Mr. Schue, you're here!" Rachel exclaimed, smoothing down her hair to absolutely no avail. "I can't believe you made it! I apologize for the...unsightly...state we're in." Will continued to gape at them as they made their way into the house.

"How was your flight?" Finn asked casually, and Will made to reply, but stopped short to study them anew, tilting his head and pondering how they could've ended up in such a state.

"Will, I heard a crash. Is everything alri-?" Emma stopped short at the top of the stairs and stared in wide-eyed, unflinching terror and panic at the eight beastly figures standing in the room.

"Oh no, Ms. Pillsbury," Mercedes began, trying to find a way to explain but coming up short.

"Emma, don't..." Will reached out a hand towards her, but she let out a piercing, dog-whistle scream for several long seconds before fainting, nearly falling down the stairs had Will not rushed to catch her.

Once they regained their hearing, Sam cleared his throat and said contritely, "We're sorry." Will just gave him a deadpan look.

At the dinner table, everyone took their seats, except obviously Emma. No one changed out of their muddy clothes because their luggage was still on The Last Hill. "Well Emma and I made enough for fourteen because I thought you'd all be here so...eat up." Everyone muttered their thanks and began to eat.

Nobody knew where to start, how to explain to their mentor what a series of hellish events they'd been through. And even if they told the entire story, it would still sound made-up to anyone who hadn't lived it. So they all remained stonily silent.

Until Finn broke the silence the only way he knew how; with pure, unadulterated honesty. "Mr. Schue, do you trust me?" Will wanted to say he wasn't sure he even knew who they were anymore, but nodded. "Okay. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound crazy. Extremely crazy. But I promise you it's all true. I wouldn't lie about this. And everyone here..." He waved at them all. "...is going to back me up, so you know it's true."

Will set down his silverware and waved a hand, prompting him. Finn took in a breath. "There's thi-"

"The TV monitor was controlling our entire vacation!" Rachel erupted.

"We had to compete against each other for survival!" Kurt affirmed fearfully.

"It was Sue, she's behind it all! She's a robot and she lives in a warehouse down the-"

"There's a creepy James Bond torture basement under the-"

"We had to dress up and go in this booth and vote each other off like- and we might be on TV-"

"There's an entire military-grade obstacle course between here and the airport with flying-"

"I fell down a hole in a _cave_!"

"Oh my gooOODDD GUYS!" Finn exploded, slamming a fist on the table. "This is exactly what I wanted to avoid!" Someone sobbed piteously in the brief silence. "You guys go outside and cool off. I'll explain everything, I promise." Another pause, and Santana was the first to stand, effectively leading the march out to the patio.

Outside, the sun had long since set. Sam blankly submerged himself in the pool, ridding himself of at least some of the filth. Quinn similarly began using pool water to wash her hair and skin, keeping her clothes dry. Santana just wandered straight for the ocean and walked into the waves without looking back.

Kurt strode off towards the road purposefully. "Where are you going?" Blaine asked, grabbing his arm when he didn't stop.

"To get our stuff," Kurt answered shortly. "Well, my stuff at least."

"Amen to that," Mercedes scoffed, joining him. "If we gotta stay here one more night, we're going to need stuff like our toothbrushes and clean clothes."

"I agree, I don't want poor Ms. Pillsbury to have to endure any more of our...slovenly ways," Rachel joined.

"If you're getting our suitcases, I'm coming, too." Quinn sauntered over and folded her arms. "I think it goes without saying that there's no way I'm landing in Ohio wearing this."

"Okay, well if-" Kurt didn't let Blaine say another word, inferring his intent.

"You should stay here," he recommended. "That way if we don't make it back, you'll be able to tell the others and send out a search party."

Blaine gave him a puzzled look. "The fact that you have a contingency plan for 'if you don't make it back' is exactly why I should go with you."

"We'll be okay," Rachel reassured him. "And Finn is going to need your help." She looked at Santana in the ocean, and Sam over in the pool, floating on his back. "We have to have someone we trust stay here or we'll come back to the house in flames."

"Okay, just be careful," Blaine conceded. The four travelers just gave him an assortment of mutters and lukewarm shrugs, having no intention of being careful. Their approach at this point was "If I die, I die."

They retraced their steps back to The Hill as best they could, Rachel peering at Kurt from time to time. "I think it's sweet that you wanted to protect Blaine from all this. I know exactly how you feel, too."

Kurt looked up distractedly. "Huh? Oh no, I just wanted him off my case."

"Relax, I totally understand!" Rachel pressed knowingly. "Blaine has been risking his life for you this entire trip, from the volleyball game to the cave pit. Of course you want to assuage your guilty conscience by keeping _him_ out of harm's way for once!"

Kurt gave her an indignant look. "Well when you put it like that...!"

"At least you have someone who would do anything for you," Quinn grumbled in jealous despair.

"Oh my god guys, look." Mercedes pointed ominously to The Hill, which was now ensconced in darkness and moonlight. Surrounding their suitcases, which lay like fallen soldiers on the battlefield, was a pack of snarling beasts.

Quinn narrowed her eyes at them. "The coati Santana was talking about really look a lot bigger from far away."

"Those. Are. Wolves," Rachel hissed, freezing and keeping her eyes on them. "Which one of you decided putting gravy steak in your suitcase was a good idea? Because you know it wasn't me!"

"One of the guys, obviously," Mercedes murmured, and they all nodded at this. "Anyway! What are we going to do?"

The wolves had nosed open a couple of the suitcases and various articles of clothing were strewn about. One of them was munching enthusiastically on something. "I'm starting to think it's not worth it," Quinn said, making to stand. "We can try again tomorrow before we leave. They'll be gone by then."

"No way I'm going a single night without my snail extract mask," Kurt whispered, and Mercedes made a face. "Okay, looks like there are only four of them. And I have to say, one of them has _great_ taste, that's from Lanvin's latest collectio-"

"Kurt!" Rachel snapped. "Why aren't you mad that they're eating your clothes?! Focus! Eye on the prize!"

"And what do you mean 'only four'?! That's one wolf to eat each of us!" Mercedes reminded them shrilly.

Kurt lowered his mental binoculars. "I have a plan."

"Really, Peter? Does it involve a bird, a duck and some _really_ strong rope?" Quinn asked petulantly.

"No, but if there's one thing I learned from Sergei Prokofiev, it's that wolves will be distracted by anything they think they can eat." Kurt stood up, the other three staring at him. "What? I didn't say it was a great plan. Or even a good one."

"Kurt, you're not going to-!" Rachel reached out as he ran towards the pack, then covered her eyes. "No, I can't watch."

"HEY!" Kurt yelled at the wolves, getting their attention. Lacking any kind of plan beyond that, he shifted his weight uneasily. "Er...I don't really think that's your color!"

Mercedes dropped her face into her palm. "Oh sweet Jesus..."

"They're chasing him now, at least," Quinn noted as Kurt ran away screaming. "What do we do? We can't let him get killed."

"We can't let his sacrifice be in vain," Rachel said, and the other two balked at her. "I mean, not- Okay," she took a breath. "When I give the signal, you two grab as many intact suitcases as you can and book it." Rachel steeled herself, then followed Kurt's example and took off with a tribal scream towards the wolves that were chasing Kurt.

Mercedes looked at Quinn. "You think that was the signal?" Quinn shrugged, and the two headed for the suitcases stealthily.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you to all the readers who have stuck with it this far, I appreciate you!


	15. The Interlopers

**Chapter Fifteen: The Interlopers**

Kurt and Rachel stopped running and stared at each other for a moment across the field, catching their breath. "Well, I didn't think this would be the hill I would die on, but so be it."

"You really didn't have a plan beyond this?!" Rachel expostulated.

"I was going to lead them into the obstacle course!" Kurt explained frantically. "We already covered that wolves are weak against rope, right?" Rachel said nothing, just slumped in exasperation. "Why are you out here anyway?!"

"Because Finn would never forgive me if I let you die!" They both looked over and saw the wolves coming for them and started running for the obstacle course. "What about you?! Why are you so intent on suicide all of a sudden?!"

"I guess what you said really got to me!" Kurt answered with a smile. "About how maybe I should try to risk my life to save someone for once! Ah, side stitch." He halted.

"_I never said that!" _Rachel stopped as well, the wolves gaining on them. "Well, it's been a fantastic life and I am honored to have been your friend-"

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by a series of hoops and claps and potentially an air horn? The wolves were suitably freaked and ran the other way, towards the woods. Rachel and Kurt just exchanged perplexed glances.

A group of figures crested the hill, lit by a lantern Will was carrying. "There they are!" Mercedes called uselessly, trying to be of help.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel asked as Blaine and Finn came down the hill, the others gathering the suitcases at the heap.

"Blaine came and told us to come find you guys, that maybe you were in trouble. And boy was he right! Were those wolves chasing you?" He looked at Kurt, still holding his side. "Holy crap, did it bite you?! Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm just weak," Kurt waved him off. "Blaine, how long were we gone before you sent out the search party?"

Blaine shrugged. "About fifteen, twenty minutes?" Kurt just hung his head, silent for a very long time as he finished catching his breath. Then he simply uttered a single word, "Blaine."

"You didn't have to come save us!" Rachel proclaimed defiantly. "We had it perfectly well in hand!"

Finn smiled at her fondly. "Of course you did. Everyone knows that to run away from a wolf is the number one thing you _shouldn't_ do, as it identifies you as prey." Kurt straightened up at this, and Rachel looked at the ground, tilting her head. "Making loud noises and…trying to look bigger than they are will usually scare them away."

"I tried that first, and it didn't work!" Kurt retorted, though he'd mostly just questioned their fashion sense. "And- why are you suddenly Bear Grylls?!"

"I tried that, too!" Rachel recalled with clarity her madwoman scream she'd used on the wolves. They had been unfazed.

"I guess they weren't intimidated by you." Blaine laughed easily like they hadn't all just cheated death, and slapped Kurt's shoulder. "Let's just head home, before they come back."

As they walked, Rachel joined the sulking Kurt. "Your courage was very inspiring tonight," she told him sincerely.

"And still I had to be rescued by Blaine," he replied glumly. "Next time I'll tell him to just forget the search party."

"Kurt… We would have died violently if you hadn't told Blaine to watch your back." While this statement was jarring, it was also true.

"So…" Finn strolled up next to Will, who was leading the way with the archaic lantern. "Sometimes seeing is believing, huh?"

"I already believed you," Will replied with a faint smile. "But…yeah, that was something."

Back at the house, Emma had been roused from her fainting spell and was reclining calmly under the watchful eye of Santana, who was reading a magazine.

"Oh, you're back!" Emma sat up and helped carry in some suitcases, Santana deciding her fingernails were more interesting. Emma wheeled in a suitcase with a chunk torn out of it and grimaced at Will, who merely shook his head. "That everything?"

"Surprisingly we were able to salvage a lot!" Mercedes cheerily reported. "Also, I never want to go outside again, ever."

"Every day we're here it's like it's such a relief to just be able to go to bed at the end of the day," Quinn sighed, collapsing onto the sofa. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask this but what happened to the giant treasure chest full of coins that used to be right there?" She gestured to the now empty space of flooring. "I explicitly remember leaving it right there. Consciously."

"Yeah I noticed that too," Sam said, and Will looked at Emma briefly, who flushed with guilt.

"Well, that was one of the first things we saw in here when we arrived, and Emma just… decided to do a bit of organizing." Will threw open a bookcase that had once been filled with books that had then been thrown on the floor, and then stacked along the wall. In the bookcase, all the coins were arranged by value in neat stacks.

"It's $342," Emma reported with a touch of pride, and Sam staggered at the amount. "All the quarters were at the bottom."

"Our gift to you, then," Quinn replied with forced generosity. "Because I'm not taking them."

"You might have room in your suitcase for them now, at least," Kurt reported solemnly. "I thought it was _my_ smoking jacket that got thrashed, but it was yours." Quinn closed her eyes and breathed in slowly.

"Anyway, it's been a long day. We should head to bed," Finn decided, then laughed nervously. "Well, I mean, it's like 10:00. You and Ms. Pillsbury can definitely go to sleep at a more…adult time." Finn hated the way it sounded, and so did everyone else. "Not that you need my permission." He just cringed.

"Um, yeah, we'll probably stay up for a bit. We just got here after all." Will looked around. "By the way, I noticed there is absolutely _no_ liquor in this place. Pretty responsible of the owner, huh?" The chorus of "Totally"s and "Absolutely"s did its part to be as unconvincing as possible. "Yeah that's what I thought."

"Well, good night everybody!" Emma chirped brightly. Kurt made to stand but stopped halfway, catching Mercedes looking equally uncomfortable. The others headed up the stairs, Sam hanging back and clearing his throat. Blaine also stayed back by pretending to be preoccupied with some trinket on the wall, nearly breaking it in the process. Will and Emma noticed the flightiness from all of them but said nothing.

They decided to have a secret emergency meeting in the largest bathroom, which was in Kurt and Blaine's room. "Oh my god, it's super freaking awkward having Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury here!" Mercedes word-vomited immediately upon shutting the door. The others exhaled in relieved agreement.

"Glad I'm not the only one who feels weird at the prospect of sleeping with my partner when those two are in the house with us. I mean- not sleeping with! Sleeping next to," Blaine managed.

"Yeah it would just feel wrong. Like I could sense their silent judgment." Sam suppressed a shudder.

"I'm having flashbacks of getting lectured by my dad all over again," Kurt grumbled.

"And yet how are Rachel and Finn okay with it?" Mercedes asked.

"Because they used to make out in the choir room in front of everybody, all the time!" Kurt reminded everyone, to their disgust. "They're totally secure about being an intimate couple because they know Mr. Schue knows they are."

"Ya lost me."

"Can you imagine going the whole vacation like this?"

"Thank god we didn't have to, I don't think I would've made it." Mercedes looked thoughtful. "Why was it so different in school?"

"Because you don't have sex at school," Sam enlightened. "But you do in your bed." Everyone stood in uncomfortable silence at this, and then there was a tentative knock at the door. Their blood collectively turned to ice.

"Please tell me that's not Mr. Schue," Kurt whispered near-inaudibly.

Blaine opened the door a crack to see Rachel's concerned visage. "I, um…left my eyelash curler in here."

"Eyelash curler? You made that up," Sam snorted.

"All your stuff is in your suitcase, Rachel," Kurt reminded her from the other side of the door.

"Fine! I just…I could hear you guys talking and I wanted to know what it was about." Blaine hesitated, then let her in. "Is it about Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury being here?"

"Yes! Oh my god, so you feel weird about it too, then?" Mercedes asked, and Rachel shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not really. Finn and I are engaged, so of course we're going to share a bed."

"It…doesn't really work like that," Mercedes said flatly.

"But I know what you mean. It does make the whole arrangement a bit more…legitimate," Blaine admitted.

"Just because Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury have expressed their disapproval about your upcoming nuptials like the rest of us, doesn't mean it should be any more comforting to have them around!" Kurt replied hotly.

"Well it's not like Finn and I are going to…!" The pause said more than Rachel's useless gesture of throwing out her hands, and Mercedes pressed her lips together.

"I can't do this, y'all."

"We're just going to sleep next to each other quietly and- everything will be fine, you guys! Stop worrying." She patted Mercedes on the head and reached for Kurt's shoulder but he ducked out of the way. "Now go to sleep before Santana finds out and decides to scheme."

Later that night, Kurt lay awake staring at the bed canopy, listening to the rise and fall of Will's and Emma's voices downstairs. Even after everything Rachel said, his anxiety did not abate.

"I can't sleep," he reported to Blaine in a whisper. "Are you asleep?"

"…Not anymore," he replied under his breath.

"I just can't stop thinking about if Mr. Schue were to see Finn and Rachel sleeping…beside each other, he would think nothing of it, right? But us, or even worse, Mercedes and Sam?" Blaine furrowed his brow at this, and Kurt went on, "I just don't get where I'm missing the double standard."

"Maybe Mr. Schue wouldn't think anything of seeing us together…because he doesn't care," Blaine answered drowsily. "Just go with that crazy logic and get some sleep."

Footsteps on the stairs, and then a knock came at their door. The two stared at each other in panic. _"Oh my__ god what is happening?!" _Kurt whisper-shouted.

"Calm down," Blaine answered quietly, getting out of bed. "I'll just- I'll hide. You…handle it." Blaine lay on the floor on the other side of the bed, and Kurt stayed motionless for a beat, then rose and answered the door.

Will turned to him and smiled. "Oh hey. I wasn't sure if anyone was in this one or not."

"Just me," Kurt replied easily, leaning against the jamb and mirroring Will's smile. "Me alone, and…by myself." Will's smile faded into puzzlement, and Kurt shook his head abruptly. "Oh god, I promise I'm not like…propositioning you." _Get it together, Kurt._

Will let that slide and peered into the room. "Blaine isn't with you?"

Kurt's surge of panic came in the form of a quizzical look. "I'm sorry, wha… Who?" Blaine gently lowered his head to the floor, sighing lengthily.

Will finally parted with a most disparaging expression. "Good night, Kurt." He turned and left, and Kurt closed his eyes in self-reproach.

The next room Will tried was opened by Mercedes, who looked fearful. "Hey Mercedes, I'm trying to find an open room. Really should've done it before you all-"

"Look Mr. Schue. I am a good Christian and I wouldn't want you to think things are different just because we're in this hou-" Will was surprised to be the one to pull the door shut.

He turned to Emma, who clasped her hands in front of her. "I mean, the couch actually seems kind of nice…?"

"I don't know why they're so afraid of me. I'm supposed to be…approachable," Will pondered.

"It's because you're their teacher," Emma reasoned. "Not their friend. Sometimes I think you forget that, in a big way."

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Sam, Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine all came down fully dressed instead of in their lounge wear, staggering their entrances so perfectly it definitely didn't seem natural. Will didn't even have the resolve to roll his eyes at them. Finn and Rachel watched this all transpire from their pajamas and robes.

"I never thought I'd be saying thank Jesus we're getting off this island today," Mercedes said as an aside to Kurt as she poured herself a cup of creamer, splashing it with coffee. "Wait…No I definitely thought I'd be saying that. More than once, actually."

"Shh, Mr. Schue might hear you," Sam said to Mercedes at full volume.

Will turned in his seat to face them. "So, you guys are leaving today, is that right?"

"I told you…"

"Yeah, I guess we have to," Blaine started with blatant reluctance. "We need to get back to our parents, and- some of us have to start part-time jobs for the summer, or packing for college! So many reasons to…go back today."

"None of which are you or Ms. Pillsbury," Sam added emphatically to Will with a nod.

Finn just shifted his eyes from person to person. "What about the fact that this island is evil and possessed?"

"Did someone say my name?" Santana asked, sashaying into the room from the pool deck, Quinn behind her. "You know, I'm actually going to miss the ocean, once we go back. The Midwest has nothing going for it."

"Do you guys have a cab coming, or…?" Will asked.

"No phone signal to call one," Kurt replied, then felt embarrassed for answering him directly, avoiding eye contact.

"Really? That's terrible. How will you get to the airport?"

"Well…you remember when we were covered in mud?" Finn asked, and Emma blanched at the mention. "…That's how."

"No way I'm going through that again!" Santana objected. "There has to be another way. Who has a map?"

Rachel produced the ever-present map of the island, spreading it on the table out of Santana's reach and nearly knocking over Emma's tea in the process. "If we assume the obstacle course is in this entire valley…" She scribbled over the middle of the island with a red crayon. "That doesn't leave us many options."

"You had crayons this whole time?" Sam asked in an injured tone.

"Wait, look at this." Quinn pointed at the far west side of the map, by the ocean. "Maybe we can just follow the coast until we're past the obstacle course, then cut across."

"It's definitely a longer route," Finn said thoughtfully, studying the path. "And we're also pretty close to the forest. You know, where those wolves ran off to?" He looked at Rachel pointedly, who shrunk back.

"But the east side is all cliffs. We learned that the hard way," Santana commented.

Will smiled proudly at them. "Wow, look at you guys. Still working together like a true team, just like you did in the New Directions. I thought this vacation would've had you all at each other's throats!" He laughed merrily, and no one brought up the heated volleyball game, the backstabbing first elimination, or how karaoke had nearly turned into Thunderdome.

"If we have to go along the beach to avoid the obstacle course, then we have no other choice," Blaine surmised. "Though I still have no idea how there's supposedly a road going from here to the airport and we seem physically incapable of finding it."

"Okay! Well let's pack up and go! We don't have any time to lose; if we miss this flight-" Rachel was cut off as everyone headed upstairs to get their bags.

"Yeah we know Rachel. If we don't get on this plane, we're probably going to die on this island, let's be real," Mercedes muttered, everyone echoing with some kind of assent. Will and Emma raised their eyebrows at each other.

Finn thanked Will and Emma for coming to help them, even though they were no help and the kids had to solve all their problems themselves. Will said, "No problem, any time!"

Once they were gone, Will turned to Emma, beaming. "Wow, thank _god_ they're out of here!"

"I know, it's so awkward having the kids around in the beach house. I don't think I could've handled another day of it." Emma stopped as the TV turned on behind Will, showing static and emitting the faint sound of white noise. "Um, is it supposed to do that?"

Will turned to look at it. "I don't think so…" He went to turn it off, but it clicked to black, and white lettering began to appear.

**None of the past contestants have ever made it this far…** The two teachers exchanged puzzled glances yet again.


	16. Cruise

**Chapter Sixteen: Cruise**

"Does everybody have their sunscreen?" Rachel asked cheerfully, turning back to everyone.

"I think everyone who was going to get sunburned on this trip already has by this point," Mercedes reported on everyone's behalf.

"Yeah my sunburn has a sunburn," Sam nodded. "All sunscreen's going to do is make me slimy." Rachel capped her sunblock without another word.

They walked a little further, then Finn spoke up, "I feel like we're forgetting something. Or someone."

"Maybe because half of us got eliminated?"

"Nah, I felt that way earlier, but then realized it was just Santana." Kurt looked at her, where she walked in silence. "Without her constant snark, it's almost like she's not here."

"Yeah, are you okay?" Mercedes asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I just miss Brittany, alright? I'm ready to get home."

Ignoring her, Sam said, "Yeah I didn't even notice til now, but you haven't said something offensive since we got back from the airport last night." He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. "Are you really Santana?"

She hunched her shoulders defensively. "I'm more than my insults, you guys. I'm a person, too!" Everyone just laughed at this, and realizing she was being serious, laughed harder.

"Does anyone else think it's weird that the…Bachelor Pad contest- god that sounds dumb," Quinn muttered, "…just ended in the middle of everything? Like, if we won the grand prize, giant treasure chest, etc., why weren't we given a limo to go home, and tickets? I imagine that's the treatment Tina and them got."

"You don't think…" Rachel started, but didn't want to say it aloud, so she whispered it to Finn like a secret. _"The contest isn't over?"_

"No way, we have to be done," Finn shook his head adamantly. "It sucks that we had to pay our own way and…do the obstacle course, but the monitor didn't give us any more challenges. It's over. Right, Blaine?"

Blaine looked up. "What? Yeah. …What?"

"Sorry, you hadn't said anything in a while. Making sure you were still here."

"Oh…yeah, I'm here…?"

"Oh no guys, look." Sam pointed ahead, where their beachy trail tapered off to a cliff, this one going up. "A dead end."

Quinn looked to her right. "The only way around is through the forest. Unless you think we should scale the wall."

"I'm not leaving my luggage behind a second time," Mercedes protested.

"Yeah, because _that's_ the problem with that idea."

"What about going the other way?" Blaine suggested, and Sam stared at him.

"Back…to the house?"

"No, through the water. Look, there's a boathouse right there." Indeed, there was a convenient little shack with a dock on the water. "Maybe there's a boat we can rent."

"Or steal," Santana quipped.

"I don't know if they'd have a boat big enough for all of us and our luggage," Kurt observed. "The place looks kind of…cozy? I don't know, modest?"

"Abandoned?"

"Yeah it looks abandoned."

Blaine strode forward with a smile. "Well, we won't know until we see for ourselves."

They crept across the rickety boards, Finn's foot plunging through a rotten plank that splashed into the sea, breaking the silence. He braced himself for Santana's inevitable remark about what a heavy-footed clodhopping giant he is, but she said nothing. That threw him off more than the decrepit boardwalk.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked the empty office window, Quinn ringing the bell for service, which made no sound although a spider did crawl out of it. "We'd like to rent a boat!"

"Nobody's been here since the '80s, Blaine, I can tell by the paint job. Let's just go," Kurt sighed, but a figure sat up from behind the counter with surprising alacrity, causing them to jump back.

It was a wizened old woman, most likely Hispanic. Quinn and Blaine reflexively put on polite smiles. "Good morning! We were hoping we could rent one of your boats." Which they still had yet to see any of.

The woman stared at them with a blank smile, and Quinn leaned her arms on the counter. "You…speak…English?" she enunciated, and Blaine pulled her back gently.

True to form, the woman began speaking to them about something, but no one could understand what she was saying. Everyone turned to Santana, who shrugged.

"No. You guys were mean to me earlier! I'm not helping you." She walked off.

"Like you aren't mean to us all the time," Mercedes exhaled, shaking her head.

"Where's Mr. Schue when we need him?"

"Mr. Schue is terrible at Spanish," Rachel scolded. "Which is the reason we are, too."

The woman tapped Quinn on the shoulder, getting their attention back. "You would like…cruise?" she asked, and everyone's faces brightened.

"Yes! A cruise! That would be amazing!"

"As long as it ends at the airport," Kurt reminded them.

"One lovers' cruise, $75," the woman reported, looking back and forth between Blaine and Quinn. They just blinked at her in return, and she gestured to the dock, where an old man was setting up what was essentially a canoe.

"That's…not enough room for all of us. I thought this was a cruise," Quinn said, and Santana raised an eyebrow slyly.

"You don't have to know Spanish to know that she said this is a lovers' cruise, for you and Blaine." She pointed between them, and the old woman nodded delightedly. The old man threw a handful of rose petals into the canoe.

"What?!" Kurt finally caught on. "But, you're not a couple!"

"That's not important, Kurt," Blaine said. "We need a boat for all eight of us?" He gestured to their group, raising his eyebrows at the lady. She nodded again and typed on her ancient calculator.

"Four lovers' cruise. $300." The old man rolled out three more canoes, one with duct tape over a patch in the side. Blaine slumped, and Quinn got out her credit card.

"Guess this is the best we can do."

The old woman eyed the black plastic card with distrust, shaking her head. "What?"

"Cash only," she hissed.

"We don't have any more cash," Mercedes said, but Sam pulled his suitcase forward.

"I thought something like this might happen, so…" He opened it to reveal a cascading heap of coins. The old woman beamed appreciatively.

Sam and Mercedes got in the first boat, which rocked unsteadily. As Rachel and Finn got in theirs, they realized they were all like this, as is the nature of canoes. Finn very nearly went overboard.

He looked at the others as the next canoe was prepared. "Okay, remember to stay close to the shore and keep heading north. We should be able to see the airport from the water."

"Roger that, Captain Buttersworth," Santana snapped, and Finn could only smile at the fact that she'd returned to her old self. "We'll find it! We don't need you to be our fearless leader all the time."

Blaine got in the boat with ease and extended his hand to Kurt, but when he took it, the old woman caned them across the wrists. "Ow! What's your problem?!" She emphatically motioned for Quinn to get in the boat, and Kurt glared at her incredulously. "Seriously, woman?!"

"This place really is stuck in the '80s," Santana said, shaking her head. She explained something in a rush of Spanish, earning a scandalized look from the old lady. The argument got heated and then the old lady was caning Santana. "Okay! Quinn, get in the godforsaken boat." The blonde complied hastily.

Kurt and Santana stumbled into their vessel, neither helping the other, and set off. They just seethed at each other.

Quinn watched Blaine row them northward. "So…you and I have never really talked, have we?"

"No, I guess not! I'm Blaine, by the way," he said, smiling. She just narrowed her eyes at him.

"I know who you are!"

Rachel hugged herself as a breeze came off the ocean. "It's actually kind of cold out here on the water," she mentioned to Finn, who was lost in thought. "Finn? Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm just a little worried about separating from the others…" He shook his head. "Actually, I probably have real anxiety over it, after what happened in the cave. It's a problem."

"They'll be fine! Like Santana said, they know how to handle things without you. Give them some credit." There was a holler and a splash in the distance, and Finn looked around. None of the other boats were in sight.

"Sounds like somebody finally bit it. Surprised it wasn't me."

"There's only one person dumb enough to fall overboard," Rachel said, and Finn looked at her with a smile.

"Sam," they said together, and shared a laugh.

Mercedes stabilized the boat as Sam got back in, drenched. "I told you to stay in your damn seat, child! You're lucky you didn't tip the whole boat over, suitcases and all! My weave is in there!"

"Sorry," Sam returned, shaking his hair out. "I just wanted to see if I could stand at the front of the boat, like Jack and Rose."

"This wooden bowl of a boat really can't compare to the Titanic. And- why am I the one rowing?!"

"I don't know! I didn't want to be sexist."

"Fine, we'll take turns. I get the feeling we'll be out here for a while."

Kurt sat back, arms folded as Santana rowed them along. She arguably had more upper-body strength anyway.

"I'm sorry you got stuck on this boat ride with me," Santana said. Kurt looked at her in bewilderment, then back at the shore. Behind him, behind her, and she rolled her eyes. "Can't I just express a _little _bit of sympathy without everyone thinking I had a brain transplant?"

"Okay." Kurt resumed his relaxed posture. "…Where's the punchline?"

"I just…! I mean, that old bigot, first of all. But mostly, you're lucky enough to still have Blaine here on this trip with you." Kurt looked aside as she went on, "I figure you want to spend as much time with him as you can, and here you are with me instead."

Kurt studied her for a moment. "You really miss Brittany that much?"

Santana smiled and shrugged. "I think she would've liked this boat ride. Maybe even said something stupid about dolphins, or tuna."

"Well, you'll get to see her soon, at least." Just then, something hit the bottom of the boat, and they grabbed the edges to steady it. "What was that?"

"I don't know… Tuna?"

"By any chance do we have the boat with the tape on the side?" Santana leaned over to check.

"Nope," she lied. "Let's hurry anyway."

In another part of the ocean, Blaine and Quinn continued their journey in awkward silence.

Quinn bit her lip, grasping for something to say. "So…you're gay. How's that?" Blaine stared at her, making no reply for a long time. When it became apparent Quinn was not going to follow it up, he sighed.

"It's…it's fine."

"That's good."

They stared out into their respective horizons, abandoning all attempts at further conversation.

Finn and Rachel were surprised to be the first ones ashore, looking around for Sam and Mercedes. "The airport is right over there. You don't think they missed it?"

"We should've just tethered our boats together," Finn sighed abjectly. "I swear, if Kurt's boat doesn't show up, I don't think I'm going to be able to search this whole island for him."

Rachel peered at him. "What about everyone else?"

But Kurt and Santana's boat was the next to show up, and they smiled as they rowed their boat ashore. "We made it!"

Kurt looked uneasily at the single other boat on the shore. "We were the last ones to leave the dock. Where are the others? I swear we didn't pass anyone."

"Why are you two together?" Finn asked, having missed everything.

"Do you think they were attacked by sharks?!" Rachel gasped, and Santana gave her a skeptical look.

"Don't you think we would've seen the blood in the water, or heard the screaming?"

"Guys, I don't like where this conversation is going!" Kurt stopped them, paling a shade.

"We just have to head for the airport and hope we meet them there," Finn said with a shrug, heading off.

"Not this again…" Santana sighed and followed, but turned back to Kurt, who remained in place. "You coming?"

"I'm not going to just…walk off when I have no idea where Blaine is. …Again!" he asserted. "Someone has to stay here in case they come by."

"Well we can't leave you by yourself…" Santana sighed heavily. "Why does this keep happening? Why can our group not just stay together?!"

"I'm telling you, we should've tethered the boats!" Finn shouted in equal frustration.

"I'll stay with you," Rachel volunteered, joining Kurt's side. "Finn, you and Santana should go to the airport in case someone shows up there."

Finn looked at the only two people on the trip he actually cared about. "You expect me to just leave you here?"

"I'm over this. Let's go." Santana dragged him off.

"If I don't see you guys in an hour, it's search party time," Finn told them sternly, both reassuring and vaguely threatening. "And don't go in the woods, under any circumstances, you two! I mean it!"

* * *

Sam and Mercedes dragged their boat ashore. "We overshot the airport by like, 100 miles, Sam," Mercedes exhaled. "I swear, I take a nap for five minutes and look what happens."

"It was the currents! I kept rowing towards shore but I wasn't going anywhere!" he justified. "Anyway, at least we know where we are. 100 miles north of the airport."

Mercedes leveled him with a grim look. "We're probably about 30, 45 minutes away. Let's start walking."

"_Wait!"_ a voice called, and they turned to see Quinn and Blaine, their boat drifting a ways out, both waving their arms. The scene progressed by Quinn attempting to stand to wave her arms, but losing her balance and toppling the boat over.

"Okay I gotta admit, that's pretty hilarious," Mercedes said with a small smile.

Once they'd finally swum to shore, Sam helped them both out of the tide. Blaine swept his hair back and Quinn removed a strand of seaweed from her shoe. "…Well that was refreshing."

"What happened to your oars?" Mercedes asked, as if the two might not have known they had them all along.

"I dropped them," Quinn admitted sheepishly. "Well, flung them."

"Both of them?" Sam gawked.

"I thought there was a spider crab in the boat!" she explained in a panic.

"How did you see one of those by mistake?!"

"It's no excuse, I know. I already feel bad about it." She wrung out her cardigan. "Needless to say, it was difficult to navigate after that. What's your excuse?" Mercedes and Sam merely exchanged glances, one unamused, one just dumb.

Blaine came back with their suitcases, which had mercifully floated to the sand. "We're nowhere near the airport, are we?"

"As a whole, we seem to have terrible luck when it comes to…everything," Mercedes conceded.

"The island is cursed."


	17. Escape

**Chapter Seventeen: Escape**

Finn stepped into the air-conditioned airport lobby and checked his watch. "We only have about an hour before our flight boards. Jeez, we did not make very good time at all."

"Well no, we had to take a detour from our detour." Santana felt her pockets, then turned to Finn. "What'd we do with the tickets?"

Finn looked up and thought back to what happened to the tickets last time they were here. "I think Blaine has them all. We kept them all together, right?"

"Yeah. God, we are idiots." She looked at the screen of Departures but without the tickets, didn't know where their destination was. "And thanks to Sam's deliberate act of extreme vagueness, we don't even know where in Ohio we're flying to."

Finn leaned against the wall, folding his arms, and looked pensive before saying, "Is this what it's going to be like, in the real world? Are we going to completely fail at being adults? I seriously didn't even think about the tickets until you mentioned them."

Santana gave him a perturbed look. "Why are you getting all deep? Relax, this island is just a hell hole. It's not really bringing the best out of any of us." She sat down on the floor beside him. "Us failing at being adults is still gonna happen though."

Thirty minutes passed, and Finn looked at his watch again. "They're going to start calling our flight soon." But as he spoke, the doors slid open and four figures strode through, three looking like they'd lost a fearsome duel with salt water. "Oh thank god."

"We made it just in time!" Mercedes cheered.

"Where are the tickets?" Santana immediately cornered Blaine.

"I thought Finn had them!"

"I probably do, hang on." Finn began to rummage.

"No, I remember that agent specifically gave them to you, Blaine," Quinn was saying. "I don't think she would've handed them to anyone else, we were all too creepy."

"Shoot, I forgot all about Rachel and Kurt!" Finn stopped himself, sitting up. "They're still waiting out there!"

Santana clicked her tongue. "Ten more minutes and we could've left them here."

"Come on Santana, we have to go get them," Finn said.

"Why do I have to go?!"

Once they were gone, the other four turned all the suitcases inside-out trying to find the tickets, which they found in the inside pocket of one of the water-logged suitcases. The ink was smudged and unreadable, the passes ruined.

Mercedes looked up murderously, recalling her earlier testament that if they didn't catch this 4:30 flight, they were doomed to die on this island. "Which one of you…knuckleheads…let the boarding passes get wet?"

Quinn snatched them from her grasp. "Come on, let's go see if we can print new ones." She ran to the desk with Sam and Blaine, Mercedes still simmering with rage.

"Hi, us again!" Quinn flashed a smile at the clerk as Blaine looked at his watch. Twenty-five minutes. "We dropped our tickets in the water? …All of them? And we were hoping we could get some new ones printed." Sam nodded fervently.

The agent raised an eyebrow, and patiently said, "…Sure. What was your destination?"

"Literally all we know is it's supposed to leave at 4:30," Sam said in a rush.

"I can look it up by the card you paid for them with?"

"We paid in cash," Blaine explained, and the agent's dubious look deepened. "It was this whole thing, it's a long story. Wait, Quinn! Your Amex!" She fished for it in her purse but couldn't find it. In fact her whole purse was empty.

"It must've fallen out when I…" Sam dropped his head on the counter, and Blaine looked at the agent in exasperation.

"Okay, look. There was a lady who sold them to us. I guarantee she'll recognize us. Or the security guard!"

"Really…muscular dude. Shaved head," Sam threw in unhelpfully. "Sunglasses."

"What was the woman's name who helped you before?" The three just gaped at each other wordlessly.

Santana and Finn came back in with Rachel and Kurt in tow. "At least you guys made it easy to find you, just had to follow the irritating trill of 'Take Me Home, Country Roads' across the plains." Santana took one look at Mercedes－lying face-down among the overturned suitcases－and walked past.

At the counter, Sam was explaining, "Really kind of tall for a lady, red hair, glasses, about…late fifties? Wearing- well, obviously the uniform-"

"Oh, maybe do an impression! You're great at those," Blaine urged.

Sam cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of himself primly. "…I'm afraid I simply cannot help you dirty vagabonds unless you have a receipt," he sneered in a nasally tone, the other two yielding to a fit of giggles. "Well? I know it's a long shot bu-"

The agent raised his eyebrows. "No actually I know exactly who you're talking about." The trio cheered in amazement and shared high-fives. "Unfortunately she's off-duty this afternoon."

"Guys!" Finn snapped, joining them. "We have to start heading for the gate now or we're going to miss it!"

"Did Mercedes's prone, corpse-like form not tell you everything you needed to know?" Santana retaliated. "Obviously the tickets were lost by one of these ham-fisted, neolithic t-"

"Actually, we found the tickets," Quinn cut her off testily. "But they were ruined."

"Oh yeah? Whose suitcase were they in?" Santana sniped.

Quinn answered "Finn's" just as Blaine admitted "Mine" and Sam said "Rachel's." They looked at each other, and Blaine angrily amended, "I mean, it was Finn!"

Finn looked flabbergasted to hear this, but Santana lowered her lids at Sam. "Rachel wasn't even here when you guys searched."

"Oh, uh…I meant Finn. I got them confused." Sam shrugged.

"Wow guys, I'm so sorry-"

"Not important. What are we going to do?"

Truthfully, they all wanted to cry at their helpless situation, but Rachel was not there to shed their tears for them. So they went over and informed the other three of their predicament.

"Looks like we won't be going home after all," Finn reported glumly, unsure of whether it was realistic to add the words "today" or "any time soon". Kurt walked off stoically, without a word, and Rachel began to cry on cue. Mercedes remained unmoved from her spot on the floor.

Kurt was staring out the window when a figure joined his side and he turned, surprised to see it was Sam. "What are you doing?" the blond asked him.

"Just picking out a plot of land where they can bury me," Kurt replied apathetically. "What do you want?"

"So, I know my ideas aren't usually very good, but I wanted to run one by you."

"I'm all ears. We don't have anything to lose at this point."

"Okay, I was thinking…we sneak on the plane." Kurt gave Sam a critical look, but the man just spread his hands. "Like _Snakes on a Plane_, but…we're the snakes."

"How are we going to do that?" Kurt whispered heatedly. "Last time I checked, we're not actually snakes."

"Well, think about it. We have these suitcases, most of which are empty now…" He gestured to the suitcase graveyard. "We could put people in them!"

"Put…people…in the suitcases."

"Yeah! We've got two cheerleaders and well, you're…flexible, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Throw Rachel in there because she's tiny and boom, four people, four suitcases."

"_Great_ idea, Sam, except we don't even have four tickets."

"We steal 'em."

"Oh so you get to steal tickets and walk on the plane like a perfectly normal human while I'm stuffed on board as _luggage?!"_ Finn chose this moment to walk up to them, frowning anxiously. "Hi Finn."

"We can totally pull this off! We just need someone to head to the gate right now and cause a distraction before it takes off."

"If you need a distraction, Rachel's your best bet," Finn added, but Sam waved him off.

"Nah, she's going in a suitcase." Finn did a double-take. "Mercedes can cause a scene. Not only will it stall the plane, but it'll create a diversion for me to steal people's boarding passes without them noticing." He glanced at Finn's watch. "Assuming they haven't all already boarded."

"And what if you can't get the passes, or you get caught?" Kurt prompted with an aggravated shrug. "Meanwhile, I'm on a conveyor belt who knows where…?"

"This sounds like our best bet," Finn decided, and Kurt balked at him.

"_What?!"_

"Guys, Sam has an idea," Finn said, turning to everyone.

"We heard the whole thing," Quinn indolently replied. "And it sounds terrible."

"Do you have a better idea?" Sam asked pointedly.

"No I totally think we should do it."

Kurt folded his arms. "Fine, but Blaine's going in the suitcase, not me, because he's-"

"Knew it," Santana crowed.

"-shorter than me! Seriously-!"

"We don't have a second to lose then!" Blaine rapidly opened a suitcase and jumped in, zipping it closed at light speed. "How's it look?"

"...Dammit I think this is actually going to work."

* * *

At the gate, Mercedes strolled up with her strange, reverse-harem entourage. "Excuse me!" she bellowed, getting the agent's attention. "That plane had better not be leaving without Twisted Whiskey Sours Senorita on board!" Finn and Kurt exchanged puzzled glances, and the agent lowered her microphone. "Mm-hmm that's what I thought."

"Your boarding pass, Miss…Whiskey Sours?"

She began digging through her purse, which was just a giant repurposed satchel filled with random stuff. "I know it's in here somewhere…" she stalled, shifting around. Sam looked for fellow passengers, but everyone had already boarded for the most part. He looked at Kurt, who gave him an urgent look back.

"Okay, so," Sam whispered. "We might have to abort this plan-"

"_Are you kidding me?!"_

"But think about it! Blaine and Rachel and them will make it back!"

_ "You are literally the worst!"_

"Ma'am, the plane needs to leave the gate soo-"

"I know my pass is in here somewhere!" she shouted, giving Sam a desperate glare over her shoulder. "Useless assistant of mine-" She dumped the contents of her bag out on the floor.

"Ma'am, we really can't hold the plane-"

"Excuse me, is that any way to talk to renowed, world-class celebrity and humanitarian Miss Twisted…Whiskey Sister?" Finn stepped in with a mock-arrogant tone. "I'm going to have to ask to speak to whoever's in charge here." He attempted to exude authority, and likely only got away with it because he was tall. The agent nodded and paged her manager.

Mercedes turned to her entourage and hissed, "Oh my god Sam...pson! What in the hell did you do with my ticket?!" She winked furiously.

"I think I must have left them...in the john?" Sam offered. "In other words, let's get out of here befo-" But it was too late, and an official-looking official strode over to the desk.

"How can I help you?"

"My...patron seems to have misplaced her boarding pass," Sam began smoothly, earning a glare from her. "Most likely she left it in her penthouse apartment this morning. We were hoping-"

The official furrowed her brow. "How did you get through security without your pass?"

"..." They were all silent as they recalled Sam leading them through an "Authorized Personnel Only" door that led to the other side of the security checkpoint by sheer chance. "Uh..." He turned to the others. "Run."

"Not so fast!"

When they were inevitably thrown in an airport detention center, Sam turned around to the closing door. "Is that any way to treat a humanitarium?!" The door clicked shut and they could hear a key turning, locking them in.

The room was just a basic room, empty, with fluorescent lighting and a linoleum floor. There were even posters portraying various vacation sights, as if anyone sent to this room had a chance of seeing another vacation again.

"Great going, Sam," Kurt muttered, resisting the urge to applaud.

"I bet you wish you were in one of those suitcases now, huh," Mercedes groaned. She crouched by the wall and massaged her temples.

"Come on, guys! We can get out of this mess...right?" Finn asked cheerfully. But the room was bare, not even a chair to sit in. "We can... I mean, it's not like we're going to get arrested or anything. We didn't do anything illegal!"

"We smuggled people onto a plane as luggage, snuck through restricted access doors to bypass security checks, and then attempted fraud to get on a plane," Kurt listed. "It's amazing we haven't already _been_ arrested!"

"I never thought my TV debut would be on _Locked Up Abroad_..." Mercedes shook her head.

"And everything was your idea, Sam!" Kurt blamed.

"Finn is the one who ruined our tickets!" Sam retaliated, pointing at Finn. "We may have smuggled people and been fraud...ful, but the fact remains that we _did_ technically pay to get on that flight!" He turned to Finn. "If we had our tickets, we wouldn't have had to do all that."

"You're right, guys... This is all my fault..." Finn sat by the wall opposite Mercedes, staring into space. Nobody felt any better about having put the blame on someone, but no one said anything more.

* * *

The suitcases were outside the plane on a dolly, waiting to be loaded. "Oh my god, guys!" Rachel suddenly gasped. She edged the zipper open a bit and breathed. "I have a really bad feeling about this!"

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that we are stuck inside suitcases in positions that no man or woman should ever have to endure?" Santana asked, voice muffled. "Because I've had a bad feeling about that for about twenty minutes now."

"No, I mean...I have a bad _feeling_!" Rachel urged vaguely.

"...You have to use the bathroom?"

"I think Finn is in danger!" she cried. "I just have a...sensation. As soulmates, Finn and I are bound together psychically! And he's in distress!" The other suitcases made cynical farting sounds at this. "I mean it, you guys! I've never been wrong about this before!"

She unzipped the suitcase and staggered out of it, falling to the side as she did. Her leg was asleep so she hopped around for a while. An air traffic controller was staring at her from a few yards away. "We can't leave! Something's not right!"

"Rachel, we've come this far!" Quinn murmured at her. "We're almost there! Finn will figure it out, he always does!"

"No, he _needs _us-!"

"I believe you!" Blaine cried. "Their plan was really bad from the start, I wouldn't be surprised if it went horribly wrong." He rocked his suitcase until it fell off the dolly, facedown. Rachel freed him. By now a small crowd of airport employees was gathering by the air traffic controller.

"Santana..." Rachel said to Mercedes's suitcase. "Please, we need your help..." There was a pause, and then Santana unzipped her confines.

"Alright, but only because I couldn't do an entire transcontinental plane ride in that thing." She rolled her neck and shoulders. "And also because you and Blaine would get nothing done without me. Probably walk off the edge of the GD building." The pair couldn't decide whether to be grateful or offended. "Quinn, you coming?"

"What? No way!" the blonde expostulated from deep inside the suitcase. "I've been through enough, and I'm finally bound for home! I'm not turning back now!" The trio exchanged glances, shrugged, and hurried off before they were caught. "I mean it, you guys can screw off! There's no way Finn and the others would-"

Blaine, Santana and Rachel ducked behind a forklift, the air traffic controllers going back to their work, which obviously didn't include apprehending trespassers. "So, where are your spidey senses telling you to go now?" Santana prompted Rachel. "Oh god wait, no _way_ I got stuck with you two again! Talk about directionally challenged."

"That's my line!" the two chorused at her belligerently.

Rachel looked up at the airport windows. "I don't know where he is exactly, but we should probably check places where people would get taken if they got caught doing something they shouldn't be doing."

"That's a safe bet, yeah." The three scuttled awkwardly across the Tarmac, avoiding guards and personnel everywhere. "Maybe we should walk normally? Probably less suspicious." They tried that.

"OMG, I just remembered something!" Blaine exclaimed, and he took out his cell phone. The other two stared at it, puzzled.

"Oh yeah, phones! Phones exist!" Rachel caught on joyfully. "Quick, call Finn!" Blaine complied, but it couldn't connect.

"I bet he never charged it after it died on him in the cave." Nobody disagreed with Santana on this.

"Kurt, then." He dialed and the three gathered around the device, listening to it ring.


	18. Airport Shuffle

**Chapter Eighteen: Airport Shuffle**

The room was depressingly silent until a tinny, muffled song could be heard. The four prisoners stared at each other in bemusement.

"Is that...'Single Ladies'?" Sam asked. A pause, and then Kurt reached into his pocket and took out his phone.

"I'm- what's happening."

"You're getting a call!" Mercedes realized, standing up. "Oh my god, our phones work now! Answer it!"

Kurt did so, answering calmly, "Hello?" There was a medley of joyous shouts and sighs of relief on the other end. "Who is this?!"

_"Kurt, it's me," _Blaine replied. _"I- where are you?"_

_"Finn?! Are you there?!"_ Rachel's plaintive voice came through, and Finn stood and joined them.

"Rachel!"

"Thank god you guys are okay!" Mercedes said, and it sounded like Blaine said the same thing simultaneously. "Or, wait, are you guys on the plane?"

_"Are you?"_ Santana asked.

"No, we..." Sam was too crippled by shame to say anything more, so Mercedes said, "We got caught. We're in some kind of holding cell in the airport." She paused as Rachel took a moment to tell her cohorts that she "knew it." "What about you guys?"

_"Rachel made us- long story, anyway. We're coming to rescue you guys!"_

"This vacation has had way too many rescue missions," Kurt intoned to the ceiling.

_"Can you describe where you are?"_

Sam looked around. "An empty room. There's a door. No windows."

_"...Okay. We can work with that?"_ They could hear Santana and Rachel making skeptical noises in the background.

"You won't be able to get in without a key," Kurt told them. "There's no point. You guys should just get on the plane! We'll be fine! If you want to see us that badly, we'll probably be on the news tomorrow so just tune into th-"

_"We're not leaving you behind!"_ Blaine shouted as Rachel screeched, _"You think we'd abandon you?!"_ and Santana mumbled something like "jesus freaking christ." Kurt fell silent and Finn took the phone from him, smiling.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do."

* * *

"How does Finn think we're supposed to knock out three guards and steal their uniforms?" Blaine asked. "We're high schoolers, not international spies."

"And plus, wouldn't it be way easier to just steal the keys?" Santana seconded. "Then again Sam thought it would be simple to steal boarding passes, and look how that turned out."

"If we get caught deliberately trying to knock out a guard—which let's face it, 'trying' is as far as we're going to get—we're going to end up in the holding cell with them!" Rachel cried.

"At least we'd all be together," Blaine said warmly, and Rachel beamed in agreement.

"What kind of stupid logic- no," Santana cut in. "Seriously, this is why you guys need me." Suddenly, Santana darted off to the side out of sight, just as a guard rounded the corner of the hallway. He spotted Rachel and Blaine immediately.

"You two aren't supposed to be here," he remarked, approaching them. "This area is off limits."

The two switched over into acting mode without missing a beat, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you, we got completely turned around. This place is like a maze!" Rachel trilled, taking Blaine's arm. The two walked past the guard in the direction he came from, then turned to face him.

"Say, can you tell us which way gate A11 is?" Blaine asked, and as the man turned to them, Santana leapt from her hiding spot. "It's just that- _oh god!"_ Rachel screamed aloud as Santana put the guard in a sleeper hold from behind, Blaine covering his mouth in shock. They watched as she slowly lowered his unconscious form to the floor.

"How did you do that?!" Blaine asked, rattled.

She just shrugged. "Lima Heights Adjacent, need I say more? Now help me strip this dude."

"I'll- um, I'll keep watch." Rachel turned her back.

Five minutes later, Santana was rolling up her uniform's pant legs, and the unconscious guard was in a broom closet. "I still don't understand why you get the uniform," Blaine mumbled.

"Because I caught him! Now come on." She straightened her cap, then grabbed both of them by the elbows, leading them down the hallway. "I'm going to throw you two in the _detention center_, because you were trespassing." She gave them a broad smile and nodded. They both looked guilty and crestfallen with ease.

* * *

Sam stared up at the vent in the ceiling. "If I stood on Finn's shoulders, I could totally reach that," he said.

"If you stood on Finn's shoulders, you could touch the freaking moon," Kurt told him. "Why do you need to reach the vent? Blaine and them are getting us out of here."

"Yeah, but what if they don't? Or what if they're too late, and the guards come for us, and-"

"Just because your plan backfired, doesn't mean they're going to fail, too," Mercedes retorted. "Relax. I bet that's them now." They could hear keys jangling outside the door, and then it swung open to reveal two stern guards. "Or not."

"We're going to question you individually. You're up first, Oprah."

"What?! You can't do this! We should be allowed to…see lawyers!" Finn protested. "Or, at least our parents. None of us are eighteen!" he lied.

"This isn't America, now shut up unless you want to be next, you puffy white beanstalk." Kurt opened his mouth to speak. "You too, Princess!"

The door slammed, and they turned to Sam. "Alright, let's get this vent open."

Sam tried to stand on Finn's shoulders, but when they finally got it he ended up hitting his head on the ceiling. "Okay, a little lower." Finn's legs were burning with effort. Sam took out a coin left over from his collection and began working on the screws.

"Will you hurry up?!"

"What's Mercedes going to think when she comes back and we're all gone?" Kurt asked worriedly.

"Obviously we won't...all be gone," Finn breathed heavily. "One of us...won't be able to get out...and it's gonna be...me." The grate from the vent popped off and Sam threw it aside.

"Okay, I'm through!" Finn hoisted him up and he scurried up the vent like a monkey. A few seconds of violent coughing ensued, and Finn and Kurt watched a cloud of dust emerge. "Alright! Kurt, come on up!"

"Wha-uh I-I don't-"

"It's just dust, come on." Finn looked over his shoulder at the door, where they could hear footsteps in the hallway. "I think they're coming back!"

Finn all but threw Kurt up into the chute, Sam pulling him up the rest of the way. "Think they'll notice that grate on the floor?" Sam asked.

"Not any more than the giant hole in the ceiling," Kurt mentioned. "Besides, nothing we can do about it now."

"Go, guys!" Finn waved them off, and the door opened to reveal the guards and Mercedes. All three looked astounded at the sight of Finn, like they'd just seen magic. He merely shrugged.

"I'm guessing I'm up next?"

* * *

"Aren't you enjoying parading us around a little _too_ much?" Rachel asked as Santana marched them into some kind of employee lounge. "I don't even think normal people are ever supposed to see this place, hostages or not."

"Hey!" Santana called out in Spanish to one of the guards drinking coffee. "I'm escorting these two to the detention center, caught them trespassing. Don't have my keys with me at the mo' though. I was technically on break when I caught them. Can I borrow yours?"

The guard looked skeptical and they thought they'd been made, but then he said, "Detention center? We ain't got one of those."

Santana frowned. "Excuse me?" Blaine and Rachel exchanged glances, completely lost.

"Nah. They were trespassing, you said? Just turn 'em loose with a warning." He shrugged.

"Oh, er, well they might have...contraband! Seriously, where do you hold people when you find them doing something illegal? There are a million illegal things you could do in an airport. You should have like, an entire wing designated for this kind of crap."

"We just turn them over to the police..." The man narrowed his eyes at her. "What did you say your name was?"

"Gloria," Santana reflexively answered, steering her charges away. "Gloria Este...ban. Anyway thanks for your help!" She dashed out of the room.

The three conferred by a potted plant in the lobby, not attracting attention at all. "I could've sworn Mercedes said they were taken to a holding cell by security!" Santana was saying.

"Maybe that guy just didn't know what he was talking about?" Blaine offered with a shrug, taking a bite of a pretzel he bought.

"What could they have done that was so bad-" Rachel paused to take a sip of her latte, "-that they had to be taken away by the police?"

"Well, Sam was with them. He probably started taking off his clothes or something."

"You don't think- shoot!" Santana turned abruptly, the other two following suit so they were all facing the wall.

"...Is this less suspicious somehow?"

"Guards," Santana whispered, and they pretended to admire the wallpaper as a couple of sentries strolled by. They could overhear their conversation.

"...know which two escaped?" one asked the other.

"Yeah, it was Porcelain, and the token hobo they added, the one with the gigantic mouth."

Rachel gasped silently and turned to them, but Blaine grabbed her wrist, silencing her.

"Well, they couldn't have gone far. You can't even access the main building from the annex without the passcode. No way they're getting out." They shared a laugh and soon were out of earshot.

_"Oh my god!"_ Rachel finally shrieked. "They had to be talking about Kurt and Sam!"

"Yeah, but- hang on, this is a lot to process," Blaine sighed.

"Totally. The annex, the passcode? They're in a separate building? We have to get moving." Santana started heading for a map. "And if those two split from Finn and Mercedes, that's just going to make our job even harder."

"Why would Sam and Kurt run away? We were coming for them!" Rachel asked.

"Maybe they had no choice."

"Is it bothering either of you two-" Blaine interrupted. "-that those alleged 'airport guards' referred to Kurt by a nickname that Coach Sylvester made up?" Rachel opened her mouth in thought. "Or called Sam a hobo despite having no way of knowing his situation at that time?"

Santana looked at him. "What are you saying."

"That the airport doesn't have the others held hostage," Blaine finished. "Robot Sue does."

* * *

Sam stomped on another ceiling grate and dislodged it from the vent shaft, then jumped to the carpeted floor. "I feel like James Bond... Again."

Kurt landed much less gracefully and fell on his butt. "Where are we?" He stood and literally dusted himself off.

"Looks like some kind of executive offices?" They were in a carpeted hallway, paintings hanging on the walls and flower arrangements set up next to doors. "This doesn't even look like part of the airport."

An elevator dinged somewhere nearby and the doors slid open. Having nowhere to hide, Sam kicked the grate aside and turned his back to the intruders.

"Well Mr. President, if you look at these figures here..." Sam droned to Kurt, holding up an invisible stack of papers and gesturing to it. Kurt stared at him incredulously, but assumed a dignified expression when the elevator people walked by. They didn't spare them a glance. "Quick, the elevator!"

The two rushed into the elevator, surprised to see an operator standing there, looking quite shocked. Kurt straightened his jacket casually. "...Why hello there good sir."

"Where to?" the old man asked as Sam scanned the elevator for some semblance of a map. Kurt picked up on this and attempted to stall, smiling pleasantly at the operator.

"Oh, I don't know. Surprise me."

The old man grew puzzled, and Sam jabbed a finger at the emergency exit blueprint. "Here, floor two! It leads to the airport main floor."

The two stared at the old man, who stared back. "You're already on floor two."

"...Of course we are."

Sam followed his instincts and tried door after door, but they were all locked or led to strangely immaculate offices, all empty. When they finally found a door that led to the airport terminal, the door was of course

"Locked," Sam cursed.

The light overhead was red, and there was a numeric keypad beside the doorknob. "Look, it needs a code! Let's see, maybe it's someone's birthday or..." Kurt pondered deeply as Sam punched in _1-2-3-4_. "Oh come on, it's not g-!" The light turned green. "Are you freaking kidding me?!"

"Come on." Sam led the way through the door and they entered the bustle of the airport crowd. As the door closed behind them, light turning red, Kurt asked, "Wait, wasn't the whole reason we escaped so we could get Finn and Mercedes out of that room?"

"No, that's what Blaine and Santana are taking care of," Sam waved it off. "What we're going to do...is steal some boarding passes."

"Please stop."

* * *

"This has got to be it."

Rachel, Blaine and Santana stared at the utility door at the far west end, a red light engaged above it. "This door totally screams 'Forbidden Annex.'"

"And look, here's where you put in the passcode." Blaine tapped the keypad. "Any ideas?"

"Guess we can start at the beginning with 0-0-0-0," Santana suggested.

"What if it blows up if we're wrong too many times?"

"Why does everything have to blow up!"

"I read somewhere-!" Rachel interposed. "-that the most common passcode is 1-2-3-4." She smiled winsomely at the two, who didn't move, so she keyed it in herself. The light turned green.

"But...that's too easy..." Rachel shepherded them through the door.

They scurried across the main hall to an elevator, where an old man was waiting. "Hello! We'd like to go to the lowest floor, please," Rachel requested, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"You need proper security clearance to go to the basement floor," the old man said.

"Is this enough clearance for you?" Santana asked, and when he turned to her, she sucker-punched him in the nose. Rachel and Blaine once again screamed and recoiled in fright, and Santana pressed the button for B1.

"What is wrong with you?!"

Floor B1 was an empty hallway. "I don't think they're down here," Blaine said. "If this is steel-reinforced concrete, we wouldn't have been able to call them on our phones."

"Let's take our chances," Santana brushed him off, opening the nearest door.

Inside was some kind of control room, set up with monitors and what appeared to be video surveillance. The room was dark, and the three crept forward towards a few of the screens. "What is this? Is this CCTV of the airport?"

But the images on the screen looked too familiar. A large bedroom with a balcony, a spacious deck with a pool and hot tub, a kitchen step leading down into a living room where a hole gaped in the middle of the floor. Rachel blanched and took a seat, Blaine wandering off with a sick look on his face. "I can't..."

"This is..." Santana scrolled through the various camera angles. "This is so messed up."

"I can't believe that whole time, we _were_ on TV... But in the worst way possible!" Rachel sobbed. "What kind of sick p-"

"Oh my god, it gets worse!" Santana called, sounding curiously amused. The other two joined her in time to see Will and Emma heading for the hot tub in real time, wearing their swimsuits. What happened next put tears of horror in the eyes of the audience. "Oh god no..."

Thankfully the reinforced concrete blocked out the screams and chorus of expletives that followed.


	19. Our House in the Middle of Our Street

**Chapter Nineteen: Our House in the Middle of Our Street**

"Do you think they've found Kurt and Sam by now?" Mercedes asked. "Seems like they've been searching for those two for so long they forgot about us."

Finn glanced at his trusty watch. "Yeah, it's been an eternity since they last checked on us. It's practically the middle of the night. Do you think we're going to have to sleep in here?" Mercedes opened her mouth to reply but they could hear keys in the lock. "Oh great, they're back."

The door opened to reveal Blaine, Rachel, and Santana. Their expressions were drawn however, their eyes lifeless. "Oh my god, guys!" Mercedes got to her feet, and Finn embraced Rachel. She returned it without much enthusiasm.

"Are you guys alright?"

"We've just..." Santana raised a fist to her mouth, pausing before continuing, "We've just seen some...stuff. Let's get you guys out of here, though."

Mercedes and Finn followed their zombie-like friends out of the room, over to a door where Rachel punched in a code without looking, opening the door. "Whoa, you guys really got things done!"

They went to the local Starbucks where their journey began, and sat down with two people so heavily disguised by sunglasses, hats and newspapers they looked like mannequins. "Mercedes!" Mannequin #1 shouted, taking her in his arms.

"Sam...! What are y'all doing?"

"Hiding from the airport security!" Kurt answered brightly. "Remember, we snuck out? Has it been that long, you guys?"

"Kurt..." Blaine began abjectly, not knowing where to start. "It's not airport security that's after us." Kurt just blinked at him. Finn and Mercedes looked confused, too.

"It's Robo-Sue," Santana finished. "And, there's worse news." She looked at Rachel.

"We were...recorded without our knowledge, at the house. Like we suspected." She closed her eyes painfully. "You have no idea how many times on the videos we talked about the possibility of us being recorded. It was a lot."

Kurt, Sam and Mercedes digested this news in shocked silence. Finn recovered quickly. "Well then, we have to destroy those tapes!"

"Yeah, except it's the twenty-first century? So no tapes. It's all digital." Santana glared at him.

"Guys, where's Quinn?" Sam asked. They ignored him.

"We have to go to that room and...destroy the computers or something! Otherwise Coach Sylvester will have enough blackmail material for the rest of our lives!" Kurt declared frantically, but Santana just shook her head.

"Relax, it's not like we were doing cocaine off strippers or anything. The footage is mildly embarrassing at worst."

"You watched it?!"

"The part where you fell on your face that first night...!" Santana directed at Finn and Kurt, unable to continue through her fit of laughter. "Classic."

"Wait, wasn't the power out?" Finn recalled. "How come the cameras were still recording?"

"It's pretty clear to me that the entire vacation was simulated," Blaine concluded unhappily. "Nothing that happened there was random."

"Yeah, Robo-Sue was making the TVs go on and off. She obviously had control over our electricity," Sam agreed in a rare flash of wisdom. "I wouldn't even be surprised if she made that tropical storm happen."

They were quiet for a while, expressions of fear on the faces of half of them, resignation on those of the other half. "Well, what was the worst thing you saw?" Mercedes asked apprehensively. Santana started to speak but the girl went on, "Never mind I don't wanna know!"

"Something weird did happen at the end, right after we left," Blaine spoke up. "Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury were talking to each other and...the TV came on and gave them a message."

The audience was rapt. "What?"

"We don't know what it said!" Rachel remarked. "But it looked like it was...similar to the ones we'd gotten. With the white letters."

"That means...the competition wasn't over...?" Finn asked.

"Let's just pretend it is!" Santana redirected. "Just pretend it said 'Congrats, you completed all the challenges!' Nothing happened to them after that anyway, and we know this because earlier tonight they were-" She broke off and amended, "-fine. They were just fine."

"This is... My mind is blown right now," Sam exhaled. "Also, I don't know if this has occurred to anyone, but... We have no way of getting off this island currently."

"That has...definitely occurred to us, believe me," Blaine assured him bitterly.

"That thought has occurred to me about 79 times in the last three hours alone, Sam," Mercedes snapped as well.

"No, Sam has a point," Finn said. "We have no money and no tickets. The only way to get off this island is the same way as Tina, Artie, Puck and all of them." He stared everybody down as he spoke. "We have to get eliminated."

* * *

Will reclined into the king-sized bed beside Emma, sighing deeply. "This vacation has been perfect. We're completely unplugged from the real world and it's so peaceful."

"Hard to believe we originally came here to save those kids, huh?" Emma asked.

"To be honest I completely forgot about them."

"I know they ended up here by accident, but did you ever get to tell them where you were originally going to take them?"

"Oh you mean the jazz and big band festival in Newport? Man I still can't believe I scored those tickets! Their loss!"

"Yes, I'm sure the kids are...so disappointed to have missed that." Suddenly, there was a knock at the door downstairs. "Who could that be? It's the middle of the night."

"I'll go check it out, you stay here," Will said, heading for the stairs.

He pulled the door open to see the previously-departed glee kids, sans Quinn. "Um, what are you guys doing back here? It's late." He took in their expressions: downcast, tired, completely devoid of the carefree optimism he was so accustomed to seeing in them. "Did you miss your flight, or...I mean, did someone die? What's going o-"

"Mr. Schue!" Rachel sobbed, embracing him despondently. "We don't know what to do anymore!"

"We thought we had it under control and that we were handling it, with the tickets and the...everything, but we just...!" Even Finn was at a loss for words.

"We need an adult," Santana summarized. The kids came inside, collapsing into various pieces of furniture in the living room.

"If it was Sue-bot's goal to completely pulverize the joy out of us, she's succeeded in doing so," Kurt said in a defeated tone. "Everything's just so hopeless."

"Wait a minute, guys..." Will attempted to soothe, but Mercedes spoke up next.

"We barely even managed to get a cab ride back here. The only reason we were able to afford it is because the driver thought one of us was cute, and we _still_ don't know who because the dude had a glass eye."

"If I'd known getting eliminated from the competition was the best thing that could happen to you, I would've lost every challenge on purpose," Sam groaned into a throw pillow. "Maybe that was the real prize all along. Freedom."

"Guys, calm down," Will smoothed over. "I'll pay for your tickets, we'll go up there together tomorrow morning."

"I'm not sure we're allowed back there," Finn informed him.

"What happened to- where's Quinn?"

"She's in a suitcase somewhere," Blaine muttered. Will opened and closed his mouth, too puzzled to reply. Suddenly Blaine sat up and turned, staring at a corner of the ceiling. Will watched in confusion as he reached on top of the armoire, took down a potted flower and smashed it onto the floor, clay shattering.

"Okay, Blaine? I know you're frustrated, but-"

"This house is bugged," Rachel stopped him, and Will recoiled in shock. "There are hidden cameras in almost every room. We just found out or we would've told you sooner."

"Way sooner," Santana mumbled.

"Are you serious?"

"To be honest, we should burn this whole place down."

"Wait! But...I'm having a great time here!" Will laughed incredulously. "I don't know what's gotten into you guys, but it can't be all that bad."

Rachel stared at him hard for a second. "When the monitor came on, after we left. What did it say?"

Will was shocked yet again to think his students had been spying on him, but got over it and answered, "It said no one had ever gotten this far in the competition before. Something about how the other contestants all tried to escape before they finished the game."

Silence pervaded, then Kurt said, "That is the most effed up thing I've heard all day."

"That's the only thing it said? No new challenges or...advice? Threats?" Finn asked.

"I'd take that as a threat," Santana commented. "Especially if it deliberately used the words 'tried to escape.'"

"God, what happened to them? It makes it sound like they all died here."

"Wouldn't surprise me if they did."

"Guys!" Will attempted to rally them a final time. "You're exhausted and disappointed and frankly starting to scare me a bit. It's just a house, and words on a screen. They can't hurt you."

"Tell that to the obstacle course outside."

"Get some sleep. I'm going to get you guys home." They all looked at him hopefully, and for the first time, he saw their old selves again. "That's what I came here to do in the first place."

* * *

The next morning, Rachel stared dejectedly at her reflection in the full length mirror, wearing her swimsuit and a threadbare cover up. Finn came in and peered at her.

"Are you ready? Everyone's downstairs waiting." His brow wrinkled at the sight of her outfit. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"It's the only thing I have left that isn't covered in sweat, sea water, sand, mud, cave slime plus leaves, or eaten by wolves." She turned to him, radiating self-pity. "It was this or the cocktail dress."

"Yeah... It really wasn't supposed to go like this, huh?"

Downstairs, Rachel realized many others were having the same problem. Mercedes was wearing a hoodie that it was way too hot for, while Blaine wore a vest but no shirt. Even Kurt's jeans were not his own. Sam's shoes didn't match. Santana had no shoes.

"We look like hippies," she muttered.

Will, on the other hand, was dressed in true vacation-dad regalia with his Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts and rugged flip flops. He clapped his hands decisively and smiled at his glum students. "Alright, looking good, guys. Ready to head for the airport? I'm bringing a cooler just in case we want to stop and have a picnic or something."

Everyone was quiet, and Blaine squinted at him critically. "Right. A picnic. Yeah."

"Oh! And before I forget..." Will reached over and grabbed an acoustic guitar. "I'm bringing this along too so we can sing all kinds of fun tunes together before you guys go." The heavy, despondent silence that followed was deafening. "Alright! Let's go!"

Outside they were greeted with stifling humidity and relentless sun. Will snapped on his sunglasses and led the way at a brisk pace while Mercedes rolled up her sleeves to the best of her ability. "I knew I should've just worn my tankini top. If only Quinn hadn't used _my_ suitcases to stow herself away in." She gave Sam a once-over. "Why aren't you having any problems like the rest of us?"

"I'm pretty sure I've been wearing this exact same outfit since I got here," he admitted with a frown.

"Yeah, you have," Kurt confirmed dryly.

"I can tell just from the smell, to be honest," Santana chimed in.

Will gave his guitar a few practice strums, then turned to his students like he was conducting a lesson, walking backwards. _"On the road again... Just can't wait to get on the road again...!"_

"Kill me, please," Santana droned.

_"The life I love is makin' music with my friends, and I can't wait to get on the road again._ Take it away, Finn!"

Finn snapped out of his defeated march and looked up in alarm, missing the first few bars. "Uh..._places that I've never been... Seein' things that I may never see again, and I...can't wait to get on the road._ _Again."_ It was more of a loose narration than a melody, and he returned his attention to the dirt in front of him. Will frowned but remained optimistic and took it up for the key change.

_"On the road again!_ Sing it, guys!"

_"Like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway!"_ Rachel couldn't resist, though there was a level of angst to her singing of this cheerful song. Mercedes wearily provided the harmony. _"We're the best of friends!"_ She beamed forcefully at Kurt, who looked up.

"Oh, uh, _insisting that the...world... _er- I don't know the words to your old fogey music, Mr. Schue!" he gave up petulantly. Santana raised her hands in praise. Blaine solemnly put away his harmonica. "Seriously, do you think this is okay somehow? Are we a joke to you?!"

"Yeah, this is really more of a death row kind of procession, not a jaunt through the meadow," Santana followed up. "In fact, if you know any _Death Row_, you can roll that out at any time."

Will lowered his guitar and gave them a side-eyed glare as he turned back around. "I never would've expected that kind of backtalk from you, Kurt. Santana though, one hundred percent."

"Well we're not in the glee club right now! We're stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere with no way of going home, and I'm wearing more polyester than I thought I ever would in my life, and...!" Kurt raised a hand to his brow, possibly crying.

"Mr. Schue is just trying to lighten the mood," Finn attempted to defend him, but his words were so at odds with his tone and expression, it came out more like an accusation.

"If by 'trying' you mean doing an absolute shite job at, then yeah, you and me agree for once," Santana sneered.

"You guys are being real downers," Will continued, shaking his head. "I bet Sam wouldn't mind singing something, right? Or Rachel? How about it?"

Rachel touched her throat and said, "Sorry Mr. Schue, I'm just not feeling particularly...in the groove right now."

Will dropped his shoulders. "Wow, this trip really _has_ gotten to you guys. Rachel doesn't even want to sing anymore?"

"I could play something?" Blaine offered, and Will pointed at him.

"Great idea!"

"Just not something too 'old man'-like," Kurt requested.

"Well, it is a harmonica," Blaine laughed lightly in reply.

"Oh, here we go, guys!" Will jogged up to the first fork in the road, with a signpost pointing down either path. Both of the signs were blank and weathered, though. "Now, which way did you go the first time?"

Finn looked thoughtful. "I don't really remem-"

"Right," Rachel proclaimed just as Blaine remarked "You made us go right" and Santana said "You took us right, Giblets." Finn just waved his arms at them in reply before dropping them to his sides.

"You heard them."

"Great! So we'll go left this time." Will directed them to the left. When they came to the next split, no one could remember which way Finn had chosen next. "Now, maybe like the last time, we should elect a sort of...leader, who will pick the directions we go from here on out using their best judgment."

"Why are we just repeating our mistakes?" Kurt asked no one.

Will looked around at them. "So, does anybody here consider themselves the leader of this group?"

_"Me,"_ all seven of them pronounced at once, some hands going up, before they all glared amongst one another. Will closed his mouth and smiled.

"I think now would be a _great_ time for that picnic."


	20. The Oracles

**Chapter Twenty: The Oracles**

Over ham and cheese sandwiches, iced tea, and a comical abundance of bananas, the New Directions sat down under a nearby tree and discussed their leadership qualifications. Many points were made about the football team, the Cheerios, the Warblers, and their own national championship title they'd just won. Kurt nearly mentioned he'd pioneered the cave expedition, but omitted this when he remembered it resulted in two people almost falling to their deaths. Sam likewise didn't mention anything that happened at the airport.

Nevertheless, Will remained unmoved. "Well, what about who has the best sense of direction?" he asked them. Nobody spoke up, though someone did mumble "not Santana." "Or, was anybody in Scouts when they were a kid?"

"I don't think knowing moss grows on the north side of a tree is going to help us reach the airport," Finn said. "It's pretty much just a game of 'pick left or right' at this point."

"Yeah, and what does selling cookies have to do with this...?"

"Okay, who has good instincts, then?" Blaine and Rachel confidently raised their hands, as did Sam.

Santana sighed and said, "Okay I _have_ to give Berry some credit, she had a psychic vision that Finn was in danger back at the airport and we probably saved their asses because of it." Rachel beamed proudly at the sound of this, and Santana went on, "And Blaine's random jungle powers did lead us straight to this oasis when we were lost and about to die during the treasure hunt. And on the subject of saving asses, they both did valiantly sacrifice themselves to save Kurt and Finn from falling down a giant hole. Allegedly." She blinked at Sam. "You, however, can put your hand down."

"First of all...that's impressive. And second, we've ruled out Finn and Santana, and Sam so far," Will listed off. He stared the rest of them down for a beat, then said, "Well, looks like it's going to have to be Rachel!"

"Now hold up a minute there, Mr. Schue," Mercedes protested, rising to her feet. "We're not even in glee club anymore and once again, you're playing favorites!"

"Well it's not like it's going to be you!" Santana snapped. "You haven't led one good initiative since we got here; you're a textbook 'follower.'" She turned to Kurt before he could speak. "And don't even get me started on Dances with Wolves over here. Your instincts suck."

Sam spoke up, "Okay I might not have saved any lives or anything, but I've been right about a lot of stuff! The whole thing with the wall in the basement, for one, and- the volcano? I've been saying that all along!"

"Any good idea you've ever had is cancelled out by your horrible_ Snakes on a Plane_ idea!" Kurt argued, and Sam gasped, offended.

As everyone started yelling and quarreling, Finn turned to Will. "By the way, what's with all the bananas?"

"What? They're good for you."

"I'm just saying, all things considered, Rachel and Blaine haven't really put a foot wrong this whole trip! Apart from, you know...the cave pit." Santana continued to campaign with a shrug. "The alpha in me hates to concede to them, but if _I_ can't lead, I'm only okay with losing to those two." She looked at them. "At the very least, we're forever bonded by what we saw in that room."

"Which we shall never speak of again," Blaine said gravely, Rachel nodding.

"Wha- Rachel has absolutely messed up on this trip, plenty of times!" Kurt began, throwing a hand out. "Right? I mean, okay, she, uh- that one time, with the- or, no, it was the time-!"

"Rachel is a born leader and I have no doubt she'll get us to the airport safely," Finn cut him off, stalking over to her side as she imperiously tossed her hair. "Unlike Blaine, who...well, I mean he might be right, a lot of the time, about most things actually, but he's...he's not _psychic_!"

Kurt crossed his arms. "How do you know? Maybe he is!" Finn looked absolutely floored by this notion.

"I'm feeling about psychic enough to knock both of you out-"

"Maybe-!" Will interrupted Santana as she strode over to them. "-we should put it to a vote?" But everyone just roared in protest at the sound of this.

"We hate voting," Mercedes told him testily.

"If you _had_ to, then." Will raised his eyebrows at Santana. "Who would you pick?"

She thought for a second, then said, "I'd have to go with Rachel. Her intuition gives my Mexican third eye a run for its money."

"I'd have to say Blaine," Sam answered when prompted. "He figured out the password to the wall, and it was his idea to split the prize money on plane tickets. Plus he always makes sure we go to bed on time."

Everyone looked at Mercedes, who looked deeply thoughtful, but then said, "I don't know, I still think Finn sh-"

"Oh please, don't be _that guy_!" A collective moan of exasperation went up.

"There's only one sensible way to solve this," Will said, shaking his head.

"Finally, rock paper scissors?" Sam asked.

"No." He pointed at the signpost. "We'll split up."

The screaming disapproval for this idea had Will covering his ears.

* * *

Blaine and Rachel were consulted separately, several yards apart from each other with their backs to each other, about which path they should take. Mercedes met Will at the signpost. "On the third count. One, two..."

"Left," Will said, as Mercedes said, "Right."

Mercedes smiled cynically. "Mr. Schue, Imma let you in on a little secret. Rachel? Always picks left. Every time. Hands down. No matter what."

"Well one of them has to be wrong," Will remarked snidely. "And Rachel...is never wrong."

"You'd jump off a mummy-flippin' bridge if Rachel Berry told you to," she accused, and he just smirked.

"Spoken like a true follower."

They returned to their huddles, and Mercedes looked at Blaine carefully. "Okay, now...how sure are you about right? Scale from one to ten."

"Ten," he replied easily, Kurt and Sam watching him closely. "Wait, did Rachel say 'left'?!"

"Don't worry about what Rachel said!" Sam diverted, and Blaine relaxed.

Mercedes inclined her head. "You'd stake your whole reputation on that choice? Your legacy, your status as the one true oracle?"

"I'm one hundred percent sure, yes. Absolutely. The airport is to the right."

"Come on, think!" Santana urged Rachel, who closed her eyes tightly. "What is the mind's eye showing you? Are you positive it's left?"

"I'm... Isn't it? It- it's left, right? I mean-" She opened her eyes. "Oh god, Blaine said 'right', didn't he? That's why you're back here asking me-!"

"Focus!" Santana slapped her across the face. "Don't cloud your judgment with unimportant things!" Rachel whimpered and shut her eyes again. "Now tell me which direction that airport is in, soldier!"

"We've got a lot riding on this," Finn said to Will, pacing. "If we go the wrong way, who knows which one of Sue's traps we could end up in, and we won't know until it's too late."

"I believe in Rachel. We just have to convince the other side."

Will and Mercedes met up again, but their oracles' answers were unchanged. "Alright, I didn't want it to have to come to this..." Mercedes said, shaking her head. "But..."

"Lllet's get ready to rumblllleee!" Sam bellowed, Rachel and Blaine facing off at the signpost. "Now, I don't need to go over the rules, do I?"

"No, Sam. I think we all learned how to play rock paper scissors growing up," Rachel assured him. The two brandished their fists, a mini staring contest ensuing.

"People are five times more likely to lead with rock, so use paper, Blaine!" Kurt shouted, Mercedes holding him back. Rachel's jaw dropped and she looked at Kurt, who raised an eyebrow back at her. An explosion of reverse psychology set in, and Blaine tried to get a read on Rachel, who couldn't get a read on him.

"Dammit Kurt!"

"Ready set _shoot!_" Will called off, and they both played rock. "Draw!"

They stepped back to their respective corners, exhaling from the pressure. "Alright, alright, stay loose," Sam coached Blaine, Kurt rubbing his shoulders. "Do not get in your head, just go with your gut feeling. Just shoot from the hip."

"Right, from the hip," Blaine sighed, very much in his head.

"You got this, Rachel," Finn pumped her up, Santana handing her a thermos of tea.

"Don't listen to the other team, just do what your mind's eye tells you to," Santana advised, but Rachel ignored her.

"Why did I play rock, when Kurt specifically said Blaine was going to play paper? I've completely lost my touch!" she cried. "Blaine thought I thought he was going to play paper so I'd play scissors, so he played rock. But I anticipated that Blaine wouldn't play paper like he was going to originally, so that ruled out scissors. But why would he use scissors? Why did I play rock, just like Kurt predicted?! _I should've played paper!"_

"Rachel, calm down," Finn soothed. "You still got this. You'll get it next round."

"Unless- I thought Blaine thought I'd use paper to cover the rock he'd use to beat my initial scissors on Kurt's paper, so he'd use scissors on the paper I would've played, so I used r-"

"Girl do not make me pimp slap you again. You have got to chill." Santana shoved her back out to the post.

Blaine jumped in place and cracked his neck to the side, Rachel shaking out her hands and attempting a slow breath. Will looked at each of them and once they were in place, said, "Ready, set-"

"Wait no, I'm not ready!" Rachel cried, and the audience collectively slumped, then started booing and jeering. "It's too much pressure! I can't do it!"

"It's okay, Rachel," Blaine told her, smiling. "I'll give you a hint. I'm going to play rock again." Rachel's brain nearly imploded from the mind games that followed that statement.

Sam pumped a fist. "We got this in the _bag!"_

"Don't listen to him! Mind's eye! See your truth!" Santana called. "Essence from within!"

Their brown eyes met again on the battlefield, and Will raised a hand. "Ready, set, shoot!"

They both played rock, and the audience collapsed into shouts of amazement and wonder. "Draw!" Will called, and the two separated, both sweating profusely now.

Mercedes was furiously chewing her fingernails as Blaine made his way back over. "This is the craziest thing I've ever seen," Sam told her, grinning. "Dude! How did you _do_ that? Serious Jedi mind trick action going on out there."

"Just...going with my gut," Blaine laughed. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Rachel! He..._literally..._told you what he was going to play! And you still screwed it up!" Santana screamed at her face, and she teared up slightly. "That's it, drop and give me twenty."

While Rachel did push-ups, Finn consulted Santana on strategy. "So what's Blaine thinking? Is he just going to play rock every time?"

"He's using the power of suggestion to mess with Rachel's head. Apart from that he has no strategy." She looked down at Rachel where she languished on the ground. "Then again neither do we."

"Okay," Sam began, spreading his hands before his team. "So logically the next thing she's going to play is paper, if she thinks Blaine is going for trip diamonds. It's gotta be getting to her by now, she's just dying to play paper."

"Or is that what she wants us to think?" Kurt suggested. "In which case, she anticipates our assumption, Blaine plays scissors and she thusly plays rock?"

"The possibilities are endless with this, you guys," Mercedes breathed impatiently. "It will just go around in circles forever. It's just chance."

_"You shut your mouth woman this is pure strategy!"_

Blaine looked at Kurt as the other two bickered. "I kind of just want to end this..." he chuckled.

"You aren't thinking of throwing the game, are you?" Kurt asked, startled.

"Kurt, that's what I've been trying to do. I told her I was playing rock...and then I played rock!" He threw his hands up. "I don't know what else to do. It's a lot harder to lose a game of rock paper scissors than you'd think."

"Lightning round," Will ordered. The lightning round was in fact no different than the other rounds. The two reconvened, and Blaine took Rachel's arm.

"Rachel, just play scissors. I'm going to play paper. Okay?"

"You can't do that, Blaine! That's cheating!" Finn pointed angrily.

"What, intimidating the opposition? Table talk is fair play!" Kurt yelled back.

Santana didn't even need to counsel Rachel, who was already shaking her head. "No, I see through you, Blaine. It's a trap! You want me to play scissors so you can crush them with rock, playing it for the third time in a row. Not falling for it. I've got you figured out."

"Do you want me to play rock? I'll do that, then, just p-!"

"Ready?" Will asked. "Set, _shoot!"_

Rachel played scissors, Blaine played rock. The crowd went absolutely wild.

Rachel shot him a betrayed look. "You told me to play scissors!"

"You told me to play rock!" Blaine yelled back.

"You're a liar and a scoundrel! I never should've trusted you!"

"I was never under the impression that you did!"

Sam and Kurt embraced Blaine in congratulations, Mercedes mopping the sweat off her brow with her sleeve. Finn consoled Rachel, who shed bitter tears into his T-shirt. Santana just shook her head every time she looked at Rachel.

"Okay, everyone. To the right," Will led them.

The oracles didn't speak to each other for several minutes, the group dividing into factions. "You did it, you established your dominance as the one true oracle," Sam was telling Blaine proudly.

"We won't actually know for sure if he's right unless this path leads to the airport," Mercedes reminded them. "If we end up in one of Sue's traps, we'll know _Rachel_ is the true oracle. So it's not over til it's over."

Will heard this and whipped out his guitar, throwing a pair of maracas to Kurt. He fumbled one to the ground, the other hitting Mercedes in the face.

_"Here we are..." _Will began soulfully, closing his eyes. _"Still together...we are." _He smiled at the glee club around him.

_"So much time...wasteEed..." _Blaine sang along._ "Playing games with love."_

_"So many tears I've crie-Ied, so much pain inside," _Finn sang in a strained falsetto, eliciting a slight wince from the others._ "But baby it ain't over til it's ooo-ver."_

_"How many times..." _Rachel sang, drying her tears and smiling. _"Did we give up, but we always worked things out."_

_"And all my doubts and fea's- a'kep me wuundrin' yeaa! If I'd always, always BE in love." _Sam earned a few strange looks for that one.

Once Blaine started playing the guitar solo on the harmonica, Santana had to stop them. "This isn't going to happen every time, is it?" Everyone shrugged and put their instruments away, but Rachel went over to Will and nudged him lightly.

"Thank you," she mouthed, and he returned her smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The moment quickly faded as the group ground to another halt.

"What _now?"_ Santana griped. Will stepped aside so the group could see yet another blank signpost, dividing their path into two. "...Motherf[bleep]."


	21. Puzzlement

**Chapter Twenty-One: Puzzlement**

"So, left here. Right?" Blaine turned to Rachel.

"What? Right? Yeah, that's what I thought, too," she stammered.

"The oracles have fallen apart," Mercedes mourned. "Our leaders have become the led."

"I'll take over, then. Let's go left here," Sam suggested, but Santana narrowed her eyes at him.

"Nobody trusts you, though."

"I do kind of wonder which direction everyone would pick if they were completely uninfluenced by someone else..." Will mused.

"Oh spare me, just write about it in your blog. _Confessions of a Woolgathering Man-child on the Psychology of Teen Youth, as Told through Song and Dance." _Santana sat down and massaged her bare feet. "How could I not see your obsession with directions before? You literally named us the _New Directions._"

"That's enough, Santana," Finn cautioned, lacking any real authority. "Blaine did win the tournament, so he can pick which way we go from now on, if everyone's okay with that." He looked pointedly at Santana, awaiting her complaint, but she just raised her hands in a grand shrug.

Blaine looked surprised at this, and everyone turned to him for guidance. However, he was no stranger to leading hordes of overdependent fools, so he motioned to the left. "Okay, we'll go this way, then! Follow me, guys."

"Part of me is excited about the prospect of going home, but part of me fears returning to that airport, like on a gut-wrenching level," Mercedes thought aloud as they walked. "Anybody else have that problem?"

"The longer we're out here, the more I worry a doll in the likeness of Sue is going to swoop down on us in a paraglider or something," Kurt murmured, wrenching his boot off to dump small rocks out of it. "No matter where we go, left or right, it feels like she's following us, watching our every move."

"I don't even want to _think_ about Sue watching our every move," Rachel shuddered. "Being in that house with all the cameras is a torture no one should have to go through."

Up ahead, Blaine stopped in front of a door which was connected to a large, unmarked building. "Is this part of the airport?" he asked.

"I honestly have no idea where we even are," Mercedes replied. "So maybe? Probably? Let's go with yes, I've got to get in some air-conditioning, stat." She stepped forward and threw the door open, wandering inside before anyone could stop her. A blast of cold air greeted them. "Sweet relief."

Everyone followed, but the room was too dimly lit to see anything. "We should probably have someone hold the d-" The door slammed behind Rachel, and Will turned to the source of the sound. "Or not."

"It's locked!" Rachel noted in dismay, pulling against the industrial handle. "Oh god, what do we d-!" The already dim lighting shut off, basking everyone in blackness. Screams of panic resounded, and the group had mild deja vu.

"Kurt, do _not_ let go of my hand for any reason!"

"Uh, I'm Sam?"

"Rachel, where are you?!"

"Wh- get off me, you freakish-!"

"There! Guys!" Will pointed to a hallway off to the right, where a faint red light was glowing. "I know it looks ominous as all hell, but it might be the way out, let's go!" The group took off running for it, some tripping over various objects along the way. Sam faceplanted at least once, and Santana stepped on what might've been a Lego and shrieked in pain.

The hallway was not wide to begin with, but as they headed for it, two steel partitions emerged from the walls and began to close, sealing the hallway off in the middle. "Hurry, run!" Will prompted to his fearful, screaming students and he slipped through, dragging Mercedes with him.

"We're not going to make it!" Rachel cried as Finn was the next to go through, a tight squeeze, and Kurt nearly lost his hand shoving Blaine through at the last second. The doors closed with finality, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. "Nooo! Finn!"

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!" Blaine attempted to pry at the door, but it was sealed.

"Mercedes!" Sam limped up to the door.

"Sam!" Mercedes called, hurrying to Blaine's side at the door, Will joining them.

"Oh god, Rachel!" he shouted, and Finn frowned at him.

"Rachel!"

Santana shrugged. "Uh...Mr. Schue?"

"It's no use, it won't budge!" Sam kicked the door in frustration. "And after everything we went through to keep from splitting the party!"

"They'll get out," Kurt caught his breath, leaning against the wall. "They know where we are, they'll come back and get us out of here. Rescue mission number...we've got to be up to five or six by now."

"What if _they're_ the ones locked in?" Santana pondered. "I mean, we know for a fact we have access to an outside door. We don't know if they do."

"At the very least, we know this place is ventilated," Sam piped up. Once again, everyone just glared at him. "Kurt and I will handle it if it comes to that."

"I... No."

Will pulled Finn and Blaine away from the door. "Guys, it's not going to open. Let's try to find a way out of this place." He took in their tortured expressions, Mercedes near to tears. "They'll be fine, I promise. Let's move."

They wandered farther down the hallway. This side of the partition was noticeably hotter, as if there was no AC running. Mercedes pulled at her hoodie top. "It almost feels like the heat is on..." Will looked up abruptly as the opening bars of the saxophone raced through his mind.

The room they reached was moderately lit and looked similar to the flash of the other room that they'd first seen. It was full of junk: desks, wardrobes, mirrors, globes, bookshelves, even a bed. It was like a storage unit. "This is...so not the airport."

There was a loud scratching sound coming from the top corner of the room where a speaker was just visible, and then a familiar voice pierced the air. _"...Greetings, idiot failures."_

"We walked right into a Sue trap," Finn said tonelessly, ignoring her likely important message. "Blaine, you led us to our doom. How could you?"

"Bu- Mercedes is the one who- with the door-!" Blaine attempted to justify, waving a hand at her.

"Excuse me? You said we was at the airport! Why wouldn't I believe you?"

"I said 'Is this the airport?' I never s-"

"Guys!" Will silenced them. The Sue speaker was still droning on.

_"...That's right, an escape room, for those of you who weren't paying attention." _The four of them exchanged apprehensive glances. _"You will compete against the team on the other side to escape from your room first, or face- as the human tree trunk said- your doom."_

"What happens if we lose?" Mercedes asked.

_"You may have noticed it's extremely hot in this room. That's no accident. The temperature is set to an unbearable degree, and will continue to rise throughout your challenge. Escape the room, or suffer from heat exhaustion until you die of heat stroke. Your choice."_

* * *

Rachel, Kurt, Sam and Santana stared up at the speaker in the corner as it relayed a message to them. _"You probably noticed this room is nice and cool. Well, not for long. The temperature is set despairingly low, and soon you'll be freezing. Escape the room, or submit to hypothermia and inevitable death."_

"It is kinda chilly in here," Sam noticed. Rachel was already shivering in her swimsuit and cover up, and Santana was searching the room for a pair of socks to keep her feet off the cold concrete.

_"I will put a timer on the wall for added stress, but it serves no purpose. You're locked in here until you get out, or die. The choice is yours."_ The speaker cut out with a pop. A timer with giant red numbers appeared on the wall, set for an hour and forty-six minutes. It began counting down.

"Well," Santana said, standing in front of the others with her feet in kitten-adorned fuzzy socks. "The sooner we figure out our room, the sooner we can get out of here and save the others. No way we're leaving them for dead."

"Of course not," Kurt snapped. "But how do we even know what we're looking for?"

"Let's just assume it's a key?" Santana suggested. "How hard can it be?"

The answer was: very hard. The heaping junk pile was filled with useless, misleading things. The desk full of letters, the bookshelves overflowing with texts with highlighted passages and dog-eared pages. The globe was covered with stickers in random cities, and a table was smothered with a deck of cards, mostly facedown. There was even an entire unsolved jigsaw puzzle on the floor.

"Okay okay, listen to this!" Rachel called for attention, holding a missive from the desk collection. "'My blind eyes are desperately waiting for the sight of you. You don't realise of course, how fascinatingly beautiful you have always been. And how strangely you have acquired an added and special and dangerous loveliness.'"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Sooo, a love letter?"

"It's not just _any_ love letter, it was written to Elizabeth Taylor-!"

"-by Richard Burton in 1964," Kurt finished, taking it from Rachel, then picking up another. "This is- are these all love letters?"

"Great, I'll just be over here, killing myself," Santana intoned, opening a cabinet in the far corner.

"'Nothing compares to your hands, nothing like the green-gold of your eyes,'" Kurt read another, and Rachel clasped her hands together.

"Frida Kahlo wrote that to Diego Rivera!" she enthused.

"'My body is filled with you for days and days. You are the m-?'" Kurt drew the letter back, puzzled. "This word is smudged out."

"'You are the m- of the night.' Isn't it 'mirror'?" Rachel asked, and the two whirled around to look at the full-length mirror behind them. Santana noticed this and picked up a baseball bat, smashing it into the mirror and rendering it into a thousand tiny shards. Kurt and Rachel yelped and flinched for cover. "What are you _doing?!"_

"Whoa..." Sam drew nearer, eyes on the panel behind the mirror's glass. "What _is_ that?"

* * *

Mercedes was sitting on the bed, sweltering under her hoodie and unable to move. "You guys, I think I'm going to pass out."

"Here," Will handed her a thermos of cold tea. "But that's the last of it, so make it count." She chugged the entirety of it.

Finn watched Blaine peruse the bookshelf for clues, silent until he couldn't hold back anymore. "You know Blaine, we wouldn't even be in this room if we'd just listened to Rachel. This is totally your fault."

"What?" Blaine snapped a copy of _Gulliver's Travels_ shut and turned to him. "First of all, if this is anyone's fault, it's Sue Sylvester's! And second, _you're_ the one who told me to lead! So I did!"

"I was trying to be a team player, for Rachel's sake! I didn't think you would actually bring us to this...brain dungeon!"

Will stepped up to play mediator. "Guys, you're only losing your tempers because it's hot in here. Can we focus on the goal, please?"

"You're just jealous because no one wants to listen to you anymore!" Blaine retorted angrily. "You're so used to everyone doing what you say, just like in glee club!"

"At least I didn't abuse my power and-!"

"Ever since you ruined the tickets, you've been-!"

"Okay, whoa, I know for a _fact_ that those tickets were in _your_ suitcase when we left the-!"

Blaine cut Finn off by shoving him, causing him to stumble back. By the time Will shouted "Enough!" the two were engaged in a brawl, Blaine ducking Finn's cross and tackling him. The two wrestled across the junk-filled room—Mercedes standing and screaming something unintelligible in fear—and crashed into the standing mirror, toppling and breaking it.

"Guys, stop! Now!" Will separated them roughly in spite of the shattered glass that surrounded them. "I don't even know where to begin lecturing you, but let me just say this is exactly what Sue would've wanted!"

Mercedes helped Blaine to his feet as Finn staggered away, dusting himself off. Thankfully they were spared any cuts, and Will stood between them as their rage abated. Their mentor overflowed with a lengthy spiel about how he was disappointed in them and they were immature and fighting is bad and they're supposed to be a team, working together, a little more about how fighting is bad, something about dreams, and finally Mercedes pointed at the broken mirror.

"Holy crap guys, what's that?"

On the board was a chart of random letters arranged in a 5x5 square, pressed onto the particle board with dark red ink that had bled with time. Printed below the letter square was a string of even more mystifying text.

**DUBHXNKIONGI**

"Oh my god..." Finn breathed, running his hands through his hair. He'd forgotten all about his quarrel with Blaine, fury replaced by a headache of confusion. "What the hell is this, some kind of code?"

"It's a cipher." Blaine knelt down and propped the mirror board back up so they could read it. "Looks like we found our first clue."

"I cannot do this, y'all," Mercedes huffed. "I am dying in this sweatshirt and definitely do not have the brain fuel to solve that, even if the room was normal temperature. This kind of thing is for geniuses, like Brittany. No way we're going to figure it out."

"Not with that attitude!" Will chirped, and everyone rolled their eyes and sighed at him. "Come on, let's take a crack at it!"

Mercedes rummaged through a dresser until she found an old tank top. While the guys tried to decipher the cipher, she quickly shed her hoodie and pulled on the tank top. It had the words "Brat Attack" in sparkly silver letters on the front, but she shrugged and joined the others.

"I still don't even get what we're trying to do," Finn whined in exasperation.

"Okay, listen, I'll go over it again," Blaine began, raising his eyebrows at him. "This block of text has to be the key." He traced a square around the 5x5 with his hand. "And this is the plaintext." Blaine ran a finger across the "DUBHXNKIONGI" lettering. "We have to use the key to convert the plaintext into ciphertext, which will probably tell us how to get out of here, or at least give us our next clue."

Finn just made a baffled face. _"What?!"_

"Man, I was not kidding when I said Blaine was the smartest one we had left," Mercedes murmured to Will. "I bet Sam is having an aneurysm over there."

"If they've even found it," Will replied worriedly, folding his arms. "We only knew this was here by sheer luck. Unless Santana and Rachel got into a catfight, they probably won't see it."

Mercedes looked doubtful for a second, then said, "They probably will get into a catfight, let's be real. I just hope they're doing a better job than we are."

"Listen, Finn? This- _this...!"_ Blaine drew several circles around the 5x5 again. "...is the _key_ we have to use, to-!" Mercedes shook her head and walked off.

To be continued...


	22. Brain Power

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Brain Power**

Earlier, Kurt had said, "Looks like a Playfair cipher," and Rachel turned to him so fast her neck cramped.

"You know how to solve it?!"

"No, I just know they exist."

Now it was thirty minutes later, and the red wall timer was just hitting the hour mark. Rachel was huddled in the bed shivering, and Santana was pacing to stay warm. Kurt stared at the cipher blankly, and Sam said, "Maybe we should look for another clue. This one is too hard."

"If you want to go back to senselessly rummaging through this old crap, be my guest," Santana snarled. "This cipher is our only lead. If we can figure it out, it could be huge progress. We might even get out."

"Have you t-tried calling B-Brittany?" Rachel asked, then sneezed.

"Yeah, no signal in here. Surprise, surprise."

Kurt uncapped the black marker he'd gotten thirty minutes ago when they had thought they would solve it, and scooted closer to the mirror. He drew lines between each pair of letters, separating the "DU" from the "BH" and so on. "If I remember correctly, Playfair ciphers have something to do with encrypting the letters as pairings, instead of individually."

"Really? How do you know that?" Rachel asked.

"I don't even care if you're just spitballing, Hummel. I say go with it," Santana waved a hand.

"Yeah, you got this," Sam said, opting for doing chin-ups on what looked like metal modern art. Kurt turned to them.

"You guys aren't going to help me?"

"We have no idea what you're doing. Besides, we're too dumb."

"No, Sam, you have exactly the kind of brain needed for things like this," Kurt told him, and Sam dropped to the floor, confused. "Get over here and...start drawing pictures or something. It might help my process." The blond shrugged and picked up a blue marker, sitting down beside Kurt.

"Hmm, so let's say _D_ and _U_ are married," Sam began, and Kurt turned to him in befuddlement.

"What? Oh- er, yeah. Okay." Sam drew a box around the _D_ on the chart until the _U_ was in the box with it.

"So we draw a house around them."

"You know, this actually looks kind of right..."

Santana joined them. "Wow, you are Brittany really think alike sometimes." She pointed at the box. "So, now you've got all these other letters living in the house with them. That's gotta be super annoying."

"Wait, so what if it's like...the inside of the house is reflected?" Kurt remarked, picking up a red marker.

"Like a mirror?" Rachel said from the bed covers.

Kurt looked at the box. "So that would mean..._D _is_ E, _and _U _is _B, _making the first two letters of the cipher...!"

"...Eb?" Santana shook her head. "I don't think that's right."

"Well put that in red and reflect it the other way..." Sam picked up a green marker next, and Rachel finally stood and joined them, not one for being left out. She huddled obnoxiously close to Sam and Kurt, getting between them for warmth. "Which means _D_ is _B_, and _U_ is_ E_."

Santana stared at it. "Be. Oh so literally just what we had, only backwards."

"It's way more likely the solution starts with 'Be,'" Rachel put in, suddenly part of the team. "Wow, look at us go!"

"Okay Sam, keep drawing houses! We're on to something!"

"B" and "H" were in the same row though, and they were stumped immediately, as reflecting did not work this time. "Nope, we're doomed."

* * *

"Oh my god, it is so hot..."

Mercedes was once again lying on the floor, spread eagle, staring at the ceiling. Finn was aggressively fanning himself with a magazine, and Blaine was making his way through the last of the banana rations, which had taken on a not so great consistency in the melting heat. Only Will remained by the cipher, staring at the letters hard.

"I just noticed the first 3 letters in the key spell 'Sue,'" he mentioned with a short laugh.

"Maybe that means something?"

"It means we gonna die here."

Finn went over to the steel door separating them from the others and listened, but he could hear nothing. There wasn't even enough space to slide a piece of paper under or through. It was essentially airtight. "This door is no joke."

"You know Mr. Schue, maybe we should've spent less time learning about music and stuff, and more time learning how to decode random ciphers?" Mercedes said. "You know, in case we ever needed to be spies or something for the American government."

"I definitely don't think we can sing our way out of this one," Blaine agreed, lying on the bed.

"Guys, don't give up," Will begged. "We can figure this out, but you have to get over here and actually look at it. Please...don't stop believing..."

"Okay!" Blaine jumped up after a while, staggered from the head rush, and then joined Will. "Come on, guys! We have to try something, even if it's just the shotgun hill climbing method for a while."

"I wish I were climbing a hill, at least that would be productive," Finn muttered.

"I wish I had a damn shotgun right now."

"Let's...replace every letter with the one to its right!" This resulted in **GEDBYQLKMQIK.**

"Oh my god I didn't think it could get worse but it did!"

"That was a terrible idea!"

* * *

"So for big houses, you transpose the letters by corners," Sam was explaining in full mad scientist mode, writing on an empty concrete wall with the markers. "For narrow, trailer park homes, you _slide_ the letters over one space. That's how I ended up with this." He tapped his marker on the wall below his jagged scrawl.

**BEHINDTHEDOG**

"Behind the dog," Rachel read aloud, laughing. "We did it!"

Santana raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Really? Sounds like another freaking riddle to me."

"No, we just have to- oh, I know the exact dog!" Rachel ran to the bed and picked up a stuffed plushie of a border collie. "Look at how cute he is!"

"Where'd you find that, though?" Kurt asked, but Santana gestured around.

"There are probably like, a hundred dog things in here. Start searching." The group had a rejuvenated energy about them after having solved the first clue, and they didn't even mind the cold so much anymore. Plus Rachel had found a dusty old colonial coat and had put it on.

Sam stared hard at a landscape picture with a Basset hound, seeing nothing but rolling fields, but Santana lifted the frame off the wall and pried something off the back of the picture. It was a metal case with a 4-digit combination lock on it.

"1-2-3-4!" Rachel and Sam shouted simultaneously. Santana complied without hesitation. However, the box didn't open.

"Look at this." Kurt tapped the back of the case, and Santana flipped it over to see a playing card taped to it. "The king of hearts."

"How sweet." But Rachel rushed over to the table with the cards scattered across it.

"It probably isn't by chance that some of the cards are face up and some aren't," Kurt noticed.

"But there's way more than four face up," Santana added. "I don't see any face cards though."

Sam, ever the realist, sat down like he was going to play a game. There were indeed four chairs, and everyone else took a seat, watching the man's brilliance at work. He finally noticed them staring and said, "Oh I was just...sitting down."

"Well, I definitely wouldn't win if this were my hand," Kurt laughed, gesturing to the cards in front of his space. "Two threes and a two."

"All I have is a three and an ace! Worst hand of five card stud ever," Santana snorted. They sat a second longer, then looked up. "Unless..."

"I have a five, two, and two aces," Rachel said, and Sam took a few seconds to count his. "Sam, you literally just have a five!"

Santana started throwing variations of 8, 4, 9 and 5 into the case until it finally clicked unlocked. "Holy crap we are geniuses!" Inside was a small black flashlight. "The hell?"

"It's a blacklight," Kurt blurted out, and Santana looked up at him dubiously.

"How do you know?"

"Uh, well... Anyway, I bet it lights up a secret message in here somewhere." He took it and headed for Sam's psycho wall. Before he could flick it on, they all heard muffled shouting coming from the steel door in the hallway.

They rushed over there but couldn't make out any words. Just desperate sounding pleas and possibly a sob or two. "Either they're not having quite as good of luck as we are, or they're getting gassed or something," Sam said.

"What is wrong with you guys?!" Santana yelled loudly at the door. There was a beat of silence, and then grateful cheering at their distress call having been responded to. "Hey! What! Is! Wrong! With! You! People?!" They nominated Mercedes's strident voice to reply, but they couldn't make it out. Just a one syllable word with a short _u_.

"...Are they saying they're f[bleep]ed?" Kurt asked. "Because I could've told them that a long time ago."

"Oh, they're _stuck!"_ Rachel figured out. "Maybe they're still on the first clue! The cryptogram...thing."

"It's behind the picture of the dog!" Sam shouted. "The Basset hound one! Not the other one." Silence reigned on the other side.

"They're not going to understand that," Santana rebuked. "Er...dog!" she shouted. "Dog picture!"

"Basset! Hound!" Rachel sighed. "It's no use."

"Maybe if we barked like dogs?" Sam suggested. The other three turned to him with expressions of doubt and concern for his mental health. "That's pretty unmistakable, right? They'll get it."

"Um...by all means, take it away." Sam began his most ambitious impression yet, that of a dog, and before long the other three joined in until a chorus of various dogs, big and small, filled the hallway.

* * *

The other four slowly drew back from the door and looked at each other cautiously, eyes shifting. "Are they getting gassed or something?" Finn had to ask.

"The secondhand embarrassment is so strong right now..." Mercedes shook her head.

"And I thought _I_ had heat exhaustion..." Will sighed.

"Dogs!" Blaine said suddenly, then ran off. The others watched him go.

"He scared of dogs, or...?"

"That must be the clue?" Finn asked.

"How did they get 'dog' from Dub-hix Nikon GI?!" Mercedes exclaimed. They returned to the main room to find Blaine tearing the head off an innocuous dog plushie.

Finn flipped through a dog picture book before dropping it on the floor, Mercedes shielding her face and smashing a figurine of a dog riding a bicycle. Will drove a small knife through the canvas of the Basset hound painting, feeling something shift behind it. "Guys."

He held out the case, this one with the queen of diamonds taped to the back. Blaine looked at the combination lock and said, "Now, this is going to sound crazy, but...try 1-2-3-4." Will gave him an unamused look after it didn't work. "Okay, I don't- I'm just saying, it worked before!"

"The cards will probably give us the values," Mercedes told them, wobbling over to the card table. "I wish the room got cooler for every clue we solved."

"Well to be fair, we didn't solve that cipher, even a little bit," Will admitted, then looked at the card table. "Wow, it's a lucky thing you two didn't knock this over during your brawl or we'd be screwed."

They made quick work of the cards and opened the case for the flashlight. "Is that a blacklight?" Mercedes asked as Blaine took it and turned it on, revealing the purple bulb.

"Yeah, a UV light. We can pretend like we're on CSI!"

"Wait, can't that give you cancer or something?" Finn steered clear of the light's path.

The overhead lights seemed to dim as Blaine swept the room with the blacklight. The first message they saw was written broadly on one of the walls.

**YOU'RE ALL MORONS**

"Well, that's not important," Will waved it off. "But definitely Sue's work."

The next message they found was written in the pages of Richard Nixon's biography. "It says 'up high,'" Blaine read, and Finn searched the tops of shelves and wardrobes until he found a metal box with multicolored lights and wires on it.

"Hm, cool," he said, tossing it from hand to hand.

There was a message on the floor written in blacklight marker. "Stand here," Blaine directed to Mercedes, who shrugged and took her spot. The floorboard depressed slightly, and the metal box in Finn's hands lit up with a red, numerical timer set for three minutes.

"Uh-oh," Finn said, but Blaine was still searching the room.

The last clue was an arrow pointing at the nightstand drawer, and Will retrieved a small binder with one piece of paper in it. "What's th-"

"Guys!" Finn shouted, holding the wire box at arms' length. "The timer on this box just started."

"What? Let me see that." Blaine joined him and stared at the box, then Mercedes, then Will. "What does that...paper say, anyway?"

Will looked up with a grave expression. "Instructions, for how to defuse a bomb."


	23. Never Thought We'd Make It This Far

**A/N: We're almost to the end! Thank you all for your continued support. **

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Never Thought We'd Make It This Far**

"Okay, how many wires are there?" Kurt read from the manual, which as it turned out was chained to the nightstand for whatever reason.

"Four. No- five!" Rachel answered, sobbing and holding a pair of wire cutters in both hands. Sam stood on the other side of the table where the bomb rested, hands in the air, as if so much as touching it would cause it to explode.

"Five? Okay..." Kurt read the manual, and the timer began beeping frantically.

_"Oh my god what's it doing?!"_ Rachel shrieked.

"It's probably just doing that to freak us out," Santana muttered, though she was starting to feel afraid, too, from her post in the center of the room. Which was also right under a vent. "Jesus, it's freezing right here! Someone throw me a frock from our founding fathers." Nobody moved, too paralyzed by fear.

"Kurt, hurry up!"

"I'm rea- okay! Five wires, so...is the serial number an odd number?"

_"What?!"_

Sam circled the bomb, finding the serial number. "I don't know, is 238974 odd?"

"...No! Okay, is there a red wire?"

"NO."

"Is there more than one yellow wire?"

"YES!"

"Is there a black wire?!"

"_YES!_ KURT GOD D-"

"OKAY! Cut the first wire." Kurt closed the binder, and Rachel put the cutting tool on the first wire. "Do it, Rachel!"

"I can't...!" she inhaled sharply, and Sam put his hand over hers, with ten seconds to go.

"Do you trust Kurt?" he asked her, and she blinked through her tears.

"I-I really don't know anymo-!"

"Well do you trust me?" This calmed her down, and she nodded.

* * *

"OKAY, IT SAYS THE FLASHING LIGHTS! CORRESPOND TO- DOES THE SERIAL NUMBER HAVE A VO-!"

_"Why are you screaming?!"_ Blaine screamed in reply, and Will took a breath and lowered his voice.

"Does the serial number have a vowel?"

Finn refused to move from holding the bomb at arms length, so Blaine moved around and checked every side of it. "Yes."

"Okay, tell me the sequence the lights flash in," Will commanded, reaching from his spot to grab a pen on a nearby table.

"Red, green, blue, yellow," Blaine reported, wiping sweat from his eyes. Finn's sweat poured down his forehead, burning his own eyes.

"Alright, press the blue, yellow, green and red in that order," Will advised, and Blaine did so, but the bomb made a buzzing noise, a small red light appeared, and the timer sped up.

"Uh, I think that was wrong?" Finn managed, voice wavering.

"Dammit, Mr. Schue!" Blaine cursed as Will said, "Dammit, Blaine. Get it together!"

"We're going to die..." Mercedes wept, lowering herself into a crouch and covering her head.

"After we mess up once, the corresponding colors change," Will read from the book. "The sequence, again."

"It changed, too," Blaine noticed. "It's blue, red, green, yellow now."

"Blue, red...?" Will looked up, confused.

_"JESUS CHRIST MR. SCHUE!"_

"Okay, okay! In this order... You said red _then_ green?" Before Blaine could completely lose it, Will said, "Green, yellow, blue, red!" Blaine punched in the lights and the timer stopped, with less than ten seconds to go. "Holy..."

Finn set it on the table gingerly, then wiped his face with his shirt, which was soaked. He took it off and wrapped it around his head. "We did it..."

The box clicked and everyone yelped in alarm, but it was just a compartment opening. Inside was a key. "Did we win?"

The speaker crackled on. _"Well, this has never happened in the history of show choir torture games before, but both teams managed to defuse their bombs at the exact same second. So congratulations, it would seem you're all free." _The steel door in the hallway began to slide open, and they all ran for it. They could see their friends on the other side and headed for each other.

They crashed into embraces with their pairs, Santana and Will looking at each other awkwardly. "Finn! Ooh god you're so warm!" Rachel leeched her icy body onto Finn's sweaty one.

"You're so cold!" Blaine hugged Kurt more tightly. "This feels amazing."

"I can't believe we made it!" Mercedes sobbed into Sam's chest.

Santana and Will shrugged at each other. "Let's get the hell out of here already."

* * *

When they walked outside, the sun was still up. "How is it not time for bed? This has been the longest day ever," Mercedes groused, putting her hands on her knees. "Can we take a break, Mr. Schue? Another picnic? I'm starving."

"Well, we could've if you guys hadn't completely wiped out our banana rations in there," Will complained in turn, the cooler of food no longer with him, though his guitar still was. "If you want to eat, you'll have to find it yourself."

They journeyed across the landscape together, hoping they were going towards the airport. "You know," Mercedes began to Santana. "Quinn was like the voice of reason when she was here. Now we've got Mr. Schue, who is..." She looked up at him, where he was strumming and singing _"Bye bye Miss American Pie, drove ma Chevy to the-"_ "More voice, less reason."

"Yeah, I never thought _I'd_ be the person in the group who's the most in touch with reality, but that seems to be the case lately," Santana agreed. She looked up ahead at another hill and laughed. "Or, that's what I _would_ say, but now I'm starting to hallucinate that I'm seeing Coach Sylvester."

Mercedes looked forward too and smiled. "Oh yeah, I am too. Must be that heat exhaustion she was talking about..."

But as the group moved forward, more and more people saw the hallucination of the woman standing on the hill ahead, and eventually Will stopped playing. "Is that...Sue?"

"Indeed, it is me," Sue replied, looking resplendent as ever in her blue track suit. "I'm surprised it took you til now to see me, but I suppose feeble eyesight might just be a part of whatever disappointing genetics make up the rest of your miserable selves."

"Sue...! You're dead!" Finn charged towards her and reached for her shoulder, but his hand went through her form and he stumbled past her, down the hill.

"You vitamin A-deprived ingrates didn't actually think I would appear before you in the flesh, did you?" she chuckled. "No, this is a hologram. Way less effort. Maybe the first time I've actually tried to save energy ruining your lives."

"You _are_ ruining our lives!" Rachel cried. "You _have_ already! What more do you want from us?! We just want to go home!"

"You all _have_ suffered greatly, haven't you? That's by design. Since your departure from the house, I've tested you mentally, physically, and..."

"Meta...physically?" Sam asked.

"And I've tested your sixth sense, your ESP. Power, knowledge, and instincts are the three most important skills, and while I'd like to say you've all failed wretchedly at these things, as is your nature, you _are_ still here, alive. So to some degree, you must have succeeded."

"Why are you doing this," Kurt asked, expecting no reply.

"Ah Porcelain... There is no true 'why.' I just got bored of the backdrop of McKinley as the setting to your misfortune and anguish. The islands were an untested challenge. Could I break the New Directions' spirits here the same as I could at McKinley? The answer, so far, is yes. The results are beyond my expectations."

"So now that we've all...suffered and all that, can we go home?" Sam asked.

"You can go home...if you pass my final challenge. My coup de grâce, my pièce de résistance, if you will."

"...What? Speak English."

"I call it...!" She waved an arm over the hill, and everyone strode forward cautiously to take a look at the landscape.

"I don't see anything," Santana said after a beat.

"That's right, there's nothing there," Sue said. "Just you guys, or you _will_ be, soon. I call it...!"

A banner rolled down from two flagpoles behind Sue. **"Sue's Sudden Death Tag Team Relay Quadrathlon!"**

"Sudden death?"

"Tag team, a relay?!"

"_Quad_rathlon!?"

"That's right!" Sue put her hands behind her and said, "You've heard of the triathlon, or even the pentathlon, now get ready for the quadrathlon! And it's a relay challenge, so you will be staying in your escape room teams and each taking on one of the legs of the relay, tagging whoever is next."

"So swimming, biking, running...but what's the fourth challenge?" Finn asked.

"Well, you know of the biathlon, correct?"

"...It's skiing?"

"No, it's rifle shooting!" Sue gestured up to the farthest leg of the race, where a small pseudo-snowy hill was located, complete with targets. "Believe me, I wanted to do the pentathlon, but something about fencing, horse-jumping and pistol-shooting seemed too dangerous even for you guys. So you may have literally dodged a bullet with that one."

"What's to stop us from just walking away from all this?" Will challenged her. "Unlike last time, you don't have us locked in a room anymore. We could just go straight for the airport."

"You could, if you had any inkling of an idea where it is," Sue countered. "If you pass this quadrathlon, not only will I tell you where the airport is and let you go there, but I'll also leave you alone for one. Calendar. Year. That's right you heard me." The New Directions looked at each other as if she'd just said the prize were a million dollars. "I won't even acknowledge your existence. Now, you game?"

"How will you decide who does which part?" Rachel asked, and Sue smiled.

"It's very nice that you assume I would decide that, but no, I'm going to let you all choose. That way your imminent failure will be your own fault."

Rachel, Kurt, Santana and Sam gathered up, the other team huddling a few paces away. "Okay, dibs on swimming," Sam said right off the bat. "I totally got this."

"I don't mind doing cycling," Rachel volunteered. "I do the stationary bike at the gym all the time while I'm singing to practice breath control.'

"At the gym?!"

"So that leaves running and shooting."

"Well, not to toot my own horn here, but I _did_ outrun a pack of wolves the other day," Kurt said with a proud smile. Rachel gave him a doubtful look.

"You got a side stitch after two minutes and completely stopped. You were going to die."

"Okay, so I'm running!" Santana said brightly. "That means you're shooting."

"Wha- I definitely would've thought the gun challenge for Santana, I mean come on!"

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

The groups reconvened with Sue, who said, "I forgot about team names and colors!" She gestured to a rack of uniforms she procured from literal nowhere. "Team A's color will be the ruddy pink of a newborn baby fetus." She held up a salmon-colored cycling jersey. "And Team B's color will be the bright yellow-green of an incredibly unripe banana."

Blaine looked green in the face just hearing this. "Please don't mention bananas..." Finn appeared ready to toss his cookies as well.

Rachel took the green cycling jersey from the rack, to spare Finn's team any bad memories. "What will our team name be?" she asked her friends, but Sue cut in.

"No, actually I'll be choosing those. You are...the Flamin' Up Real Good McNuggets." They all exchanged bemused glances.

"And you!" she said to Finn as he took the baby-colored running shorts. "You are the Level Five Spicy Mashed Potatoes. Huh, I must be hungry or something."

Blaine stood before Kurt, who was dressed in head-to-toe snow gear, while he himself wore a Speedo. "Um, good luck with your challenge."

"Thanks, you too." They hugged each other. "Just think, after this, Sue is going to leave us alone! You could go your whole senior year of high school without even seeing her."

"Well, that's only if the Level Five Spicy Mashed Potatoes win," Blaine reminded him, and Kurt looked taken aback. "But I don't want you to go easy on us because of it!"

"I literally couldn't if I tried," Kurt replied lightly. "You look good, by the way." He gestured to Blaine's body. "You definitely don't look like you've been stranded on an island for days. The Speedo works for you."

"Thanks. You look cute, too, in your parka. It looks really hot, though."

"I am...dying."

Finn ran up to Rachel and grabbed her wrist. "Hey! Before you head off, I just wanted to say good luck." She turned to him in her cycling jersey, holding her helmet under her arm. "Wow, you look like a professional cyclist!"

"Aw, stop," she giggled. "Good luck to you, too. You _are_ up against Santana, but I have no doubt you'll win."

"Thanks. You know, I wish...we were on the same team, for once. We haven't done a challenge together since like, the grilled cheese sandwiches?" Rachel's eyes widened at this. "I feel like I'd do a lot better if I were competing with you, not against you."

"It does feel like we've actually spent a lot of this vacation apart, at least lately," she sighed. "The airport, the escape room, and now this? Not to mention karaoke I was with Blaine, and Jeopardy was Kurt..."

"Wow, this has been a long trip!" Finn laughed, and Sue raised her megaphone and shouted something unintelligible. "I'd better get to my starting block."

"Break a leg!" Rachel cheered, kissing him briefly. "But- like, don't actually, because that would be...so bad. Oh my god." She hurried away to her bicycle, where she would wait for Sam's hand-off.

"Alright, plebeians! On your marks...!" There was no "get set", Sue just fired a pistol in the air. Sam and Blaine exchanged glances, then dove into the water.

_"Holy sh-[blee-eeeep] this water's cold!"_

"It is the Pacific Ocean, after all!" Sue called from her perch on a nearby rock.

"Oh god, then we're way far away from where I thought we were."

The two swam out to sea, around a large rock formation landmark, and made their lap back to the beach. "Come on, you can do it!" Rachel cheered, jumping up and down. "Go, Sam!"

"Come on, Blaine!" Will cheered, then looked at Rachel. "Rachel, I know we're good friends and all, but I am_ not_ losing this race. I've wanted Sue off my back for way longer than you have!"

"Bring it, Mr. Schue," Rachel met him with intensity. "I'm not going easy on you. In fact, I already cut the brakes of my bike." Will gaped at her. _"Come on Sam, hurry up!"_

Sam reached the beach first and grabbed his towel, then hurried to the cyclists, but Sue stood in his way. "You didn't think it would be this easy, did you?"

"What are you doing?!" Sam yelled.

"Remember, I'm challenging you all on the physical, mental, and extrasensory. So in between race segments, you're going to go through a little quiz. And what combines the mental with the instinctual better than- _Family Feud_!" There was a fanfare and small showering of confetti, which ended abruptly. "I'll ask you some fast money questions, and if Blaine answers better than you do, you'll get time added to your race at the end."

"Why are you telling me this _now?!_" Sam watched incredulously as Blaine jogged over behind him. "I just lost my whole lead!"

"Whoops. First question, Sam! Blaine, cover your ears." Blaine complied. "Name someone people call when they're in trouble."

"Their mom."

"Name a lollipop flavor."

"Grape."

"Name something cherry-flavored."

"Medicine."

"Name a month of the year."

"Shoot, I'm blanking."

"Name a part of a ship."

"Uh, Blaine."

"Okay get lost kid." Sam ran full tilt over to Rachel. "Blaine! You're up! Name someone people call when they're in trouble."

"The police?"

"Name a lollipop flavor."

"Cherry."

"Name something cherry-flavored."

"...A lollipop! Jeez..."

"Name a month of the year."

"January."

"Name a part of a ship."

"The stern."

"Get out of my sight."


	24. Sue's Sudden Death Tag Team Relay Quad

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Sue's Sudden Death Tag Team Relay Quadrathlon**

Rachel pedaled furiously thinking, _I have to win this, and we'll be rid of Sue for a year! I won't have to worry about her sabotaging my career, or following Kurt around to play some elaborate prank, or using Sam as an excuse to further terrorize the glee club!_

Will rode up next to her and she did a double-take, then pedaled faster. "It's no use, Rachel!" Will called. "When it comes to cycling, I have tons of practice!"

"Why, because you were around before cars were invented?!" she yelled back, and Will balked.

"Ouch..."

"Okay, I'm sorry Mr. Schue, that was uncharacteristic of me," she apologized between breaths. "I just- I can't lose this. Earlier when we were competing for $250,000, that was like a fantasy, like winning the lottery. But this...this could be real! This _is_ real! And I have to have it!"

Will stared at her a moment. "You were competing for $250,000?"

"It's a long story, just- eeeek!" She veered off the road as Sue strolled into her path and, since the brakes were cut, crashed into a ditch. Will skidded to a stop by Sue's side.

"Quiz time!" she announced with a grin, holding up flash cards. "Butt-chin, name a reason why someone might make fun of your car." Will opened and closed his mouth to glare at her. "What? I don't pick the questions."

"Yes you do. And...bad paint job."

"Something people do in the park."

"Read."

"What? In the park? Name something people cut."

"Hair."

"Name something you find in a park."

Will gave her another strange look, but said, "Uh, dogs."

"Name an instrument in a symphony orchestra."

"Violin!"

"Terrible. Beat it." Rachel crawled out of the ditch and limped over, taking twigs from her hair. "You ready, Smurf? William did awful so you've got a shot. Reason why someone might make fun of your car."

"Oh, uh...it's old!" Rachel put a hand to her chest, still catching her breath.

"Something people do in a park."

"Get mugged!"

"You... Something people cut."

"Brakes."

"Somethingyoufindinapark."

"Muggers!"

"Name an instrument in a symphony orchestra."

"Violin!" Sue made a buzz of rejection sound. "Oh, uh...clarinet?"

"...No." Rachel's smile faded, and Sue jerked a thumb. "Get out of my face already."

She ran over and slapped Santana's hand. "I'm sorry it took so long, I-!"

"I saw you epically crash off the road, Berry, don't worry about it. I'm going to catch that meat tub in no time." Rachel raised a hand to protest but Santana was already gone.

"Hey, Gravy-hips!" Santana called, gaining on Finn. "I'm really curious as to why you picked running! I swear since this trip started, you've fallen on your face more times than anyone else."

"What, no I haven't!" Finn retorted. "Name one time!"

"Um, obviously your comedic debut in the kitchen, night one."

"Okay, name another time!"

"Hmm, didn't you fall down the basement stairs?"

Finn gave her a bewildered look. "That was Artie, for god's sake!"

"Obstacle course?"

"That was Rachel!"

"Cave pit?"

"Blaine! And Rachel again."

"How about when you tumbled magnificently out of the waterfall in a swan dive gone wrong?"

"...Okay yeah that was me."

The finish line was in sight and they both increased their pace. "Hey Finn, what's that?" Santana asked, pointing to the side. He smirked and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm not falling for that, Santana," he chuckled. She continued to stare off to his right as they ran, and he finally stole a glimpse. Santana lashed her foot out and tripped him savagely.

"Sucker, you'll fall for anything! Literally!" she cackled. "That makes three!"

She rolled to a stop at Sue's table, taking a water bottle from it and chugging. "Okay Sandbags, here we go. Name something you try to avoid when camping in the woods."

"Bears."

"Name something people do to corn."

"What the hell? Eat?"

"Name the worst thing a policeman could find in your car."

"Drugs."

"Name something people only use once."

"Condoms."

"Name a fat animal."

"Whale!"

"...Whale is not on there, Jugs the Clown, but I commend you anyway. Now scram." She disappeared and Finn staggered into view. "Speaking of whales! There you are buddy. Name something you try to avoid when camping in the woods."

"Bears." Sue buzzed him. "Uh...snakes, I guess."

"Name something people do to corn."

"Eat." Sue buzzed him again. "Dammit... Corn..."

"Never mind you failed. Name the worst thing a policeman could find in your car."

"A dead body."

"Name something people only use once."

"Uh, Kleenex."

"Name a fat animal."

"...Elephant."

Finn climbed the steep hill to Sue's makeshift winter wonderland, and it got increasingly cold. Soon Finn was shivering in his sweat-soaked tank top and running shorts, and an industrial-size fan was set up blowing fake snow everywhere, effectively creating a blizzard. "How the hell is this even possible?!"

"Finn!" Mercedes jogged over to him in the whiteout, pulling up her snow goggles. "Come on, tag me!" He slapped her arm. "How did you lose to Santana?"

"She tripped me!" he shouted. "You'd better watch yourself, this team is a bunch of cheats!" Santana stuck her tongue out at him and she passed, descending the mountain. "I'm serious! Kurt will probably shoot you!"

"Get out of here already, Finn!" Mercedes shooed him away and took her spot next to Kurt, picking up her rifle. "Okay, we gotta make five shots standing up and five lying down?"

"Sounds about right. I'll be lucky if I make a single one." Kurt took a shot, but it went askew. "This gigantic freaking fan is not helping at all."

"I can't believe everybody else got all these normal things. Running, swimming, riding a bike. Everyone can do that. But here I am on Mt. Everest tryna shoot a bean-sized target in a snowstorm with a rifle I ain't even sure hasn't been tampered with by Sue." She checked the gun. "I'm gonna be up here all day."

"You and me both, then," Kurt replied, but as he did, he shot one of the targets, flipping it. "Oh hey, I got it! Did you see that?"

"No. Then again I can't see a damn thing." She put her goggles back on and took aim. "I blame Mr. Schue for wasting all our time on glee club learning songs when he could've been teaching us how to shoot firearms."

"Yeah he really went off curriculum with that one huh." Kurt struck another target. "Yes! I'm on fire."

"Seriously Kurt, how are you doing that?"

"Literally just aim anywhere except at the targets."

She gave him a disbelieving frown. "Finn said you was going to sabotage me..." she mumbled, but then aimed between two targets and pulled the trigger. A target flipped. "Oh, nope, you right."

Minutes later, Mercedes had hit three and Kurt was settling onto the ground for the second part. The targets also got farther away. "What the hell? This is hard enough as it is!" He took a shot and missed, then adjusted the sights. "Maybe now I actually have to aim..."

Mercedes joined him in the fake snow. "You know, I cannot believe we were singing in the basement just a few days ago, and complaining about how awful everything was, just because we weren't sleeping, or we didn't like our song, or Rachel was...being Rachel. Now look at us." She fired the gun into oblivion. "Knee-deep in the frozen tundra, with guns. We didn't know how good we had it."

"At least you got to eat something," Kurt returned, then looked at her. "Even if it was just a ton of bananas."

"Oh god," she replied, burping wetly. "I don't think I can talk about bananas ever again."

Finally Kurt struck the final target and stood. "Yes! Oh my god I'm out of here." He all but threw himself down the mountain.

Sue waited at her table, the finish line yards behind her. Once Kurt arrived, taking off his parka, she held up the set of cards. "Sweet, delicate Porcelain, you've made-"

"Don't waste my time!" he cut her off.

"...Name something your boss might tell you that would come as a shock."

"Uh...he's gay?"

"Name a romantic place you can take a date for free."

"The park."

"Not with Will Schuester you can't. Name something that a woman never forgets about her fiancé's marriage proposal."

"The way- how he-"

"Got it. How long should a couple date before getting married?"

Kurt gave her a po-faced look. "Why are these all about love?! I don't know, a year?"

"Name a time when you have to have your picture taken."

"A wedding. Dammit!"

Sue picked up an egg timer as Kurt started to head off. "Not so fast. Your team may have been physically superior, somehow, but mentally they were weak. Each of the questions that the opposite team beat your teammates at were converted into ten seconds of added time, starting..." She set the egg timer down. "Now."

"What?! How long is it?"

"90 seconds." They both looked over to see Mercedes descending the hill, coming their way. "Oh look, here comes the hag."

Kurt covered his mouth in a panic, pacing. "So what, I just have to stand here?" Sue nodded gravely.

"Okay Hagatha Franklin, name something your boss might tell you that would come as a shock."

"I'm on _Candid Camera_."

"Name a romantic place you can take a date for free."

"The beach."

"Name something that a woman never forgets about her fiancé's marriage proposal."

"The size of the ring."

"How long should a couple date before getting married?"

"Like, eight years." Kurt and Sue exchanged concerned glances.

"Name a time when you have to have your picture taken."

"Driver's license."

"Not a bad job, though you lost nearly every question to Twinkles over here. That means there's an additional 110 seconds on your clock and..." She looked at Kurt's egg timer. "Just 20 more on this one."

Kurt and Mercedes stood side by side in front of Sue, seething and watching the egg timer count down. When it finally dinged, Kurt was off like a shot, as if time itself had been unfrozen. "Sorry lady," Sue said to Mercedes, who just glowered at her.

Santana waited on the other side of the finish line tape to welcome Kurt with a hug. Nothing brought two people together like a shared hatred for Sue Sylvester. "We did it, we won!"

As the others joined them and gathered around, Sue put her hands on Blaine's and Will's shoulders. "I'll be looking forward to this coming year, gentlemen," and strode off into the sunset. They just looked at each other despairingly.

"Hey wait a minute," Finn spoke up, and the winning team stopped celebrating and listened. "Didn't she say she'd show us how to get to the airport?"

"She said she'd show the _winning team_ how to get there," Santana said evilly, but she was just met with four pleading gazes rife with sadness and desperation. "I'm just kidding you guys, jeez. Come on, it's this way."

They walked until the sun had set and finally made it to the airport without further incident. Santana stopped them at the door. "Okay, I don't know what airport security is going to think when you two walk in?" She pointed at Sam and Blaine. "But we definitely look like a wandering troupe of psychos and will attract too much unwanted attention. So let me and Butterlocks handle the tickets." She motioned for Will to follow, but he stayed put when Finn grabbed his shoulder.

"I'm not splitting this group up one more time," Finn put his foot down. "Knowing our luck, Santana and Mr. Schue would be gone for twenty seconds and we'd get spirited away by...UFOs or something! We're all going." He nodded at everyone, Santana shrugging. "Just...try to keep a low profile."

The band of athletes wandered into the airport again, their home away from home. Sam huddled deep in his towel, Blaine wearing Kurt's coat and still no pants. Rachel had yet to remove her helmet.

"I would recognize that aura of self-pity anywhere," a voice said, and they all turned around to see a figure, sitting among a heap of suitcases.

"Quinn!" Santana cheered, rushing over to her and tackling her in yet another out-of-character hug. "What are you still doing here? I thought you went home with the cargo!"

"Had a change of heart," she replied, smiling. "Which really means I couldn't stomach the thought of staying in that suitcase a second longer." She turned to everyone. "Hey guys."

"I can't believe it, it's..." Sam dropped his towel in shock, staring.

_"Our stuff!"_

"Sweet, precious clothes!"

"Oh thank jesus, _clean underwear!_"

The group fell upon their suitcases like savages, rushing right past Quinn, who just sighed heavily.


	25. Epilogue

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Epilogue**

Kurt and Rachel emerged from their respective bathrooms across the hall from each other—dressed in freshly-pressed clothes—and floated to each other in euphoria. "I feel so much better now," Rachel gushed blissfully.

"I know, I feel human again!" Kurt exhaled, then looked around the airport, joy diminishing. "Almost."

"We'll be home soon," Rachel assured him, taking his hand, and they headed down towards their gate where the others waited. They saw Will browsing a nearby kiosk and approached him.

"Mr. Schue? What are you still doing here?" Rachel asked. "You're staying on the island, aren't you? At least I hope so, because Ms. Pillsbury is still-"

"Relax," Will laughed. "I am going back, but not before I see you guys off on that plane. It's like Finn said: as soon as I leave, some mayhem will come out of nowhere and detain you for another three days. Then I'll have to open my door to you guys all over again." They nodded knowingly at this. "Also, here. I wanted to give you two the boarding passes." He handed them each four tickets. "I can't think of anyone I trust more to keep them safe."

Kurt laughed airily. "Um, yeah, I think anyone could handle transporting the tickets from this spot to that counter over the next twenty-five minutes," he said.

Will smiled tightly in return. "And if I were a betting man, I would bet against you. Come on, let's go sit down."

They took their seats amid the others at their gate. Sam and Santana were talking over the tattered remains of their dinner from the taco restaurant in the airport, and Mercedes was drowsing beside them, eye mask on. Quinn was listening nearby but said nothing, just smiled from time to time at their crazy anecdotes.

Blaine stood when he saw them coming, waking Finn from his slumber abruptly. "Thank god, if you had been gone for another thirty seconds, I was coming to find you," Blaine said worriedly to them. Finn continued to appear as if he'd just woken up from a nightmare.

"Would you _relax_ already? This is the home stretch, we're safe now," Kurt reassured him. "At least I hope, please god let this be the end."

"It would be naïve to deny that this trip is going to have some lasting negative effects," Rachel was saying, taking a seat beside Finn. "We're probably all going to need therapy."

"Earlier Finn had the idea that we all handcuff ourselves together, and honestly I'm on board...?" Blaine suggested to Kurt, but he shook his head.

"Everything is going to be fine from now on, I...promise..." Kurt trailed off as a familiar woman approached them in bold strides, to go with her equally bold track suit. "Oh no..."

Sue stopped next to them and smiled. "William Schuester, Blaine Anderson, and Finn Hudson. I just wanted to offer my hearty congratulations to you in person."

"Wait, you're real?" Finn reached out and touched her arm, then recoiled as if burned.

"Yes, Pudge. I am as real as can be. Mercedes!" The girl jerked from her sleep, looked around until she saw Sue, and held back a scream. "How are you holding up since your devastating loss against the Flamin' Up Real Good McNuggets?"

"Sue, we don't want anything more to do with you as long as we're on this island. Really, for eternity, but is it so much to ask-"

Sue cut Rachel off, "As I was saying, I wanted to congratulate you all on surviving this horrible episode of your life, but also extend the invitation for you to come back and do it again next year." She held out an envelope to Finn, who didn't take it. "In spite of the suffering, horror, pain, discomfort, embarrassment, and feeling of utter violation you all endured, you had a good time, right?"

Blaine was quiet for a moment, then said, "We only had a good time because we were together, with our friends. And we can do that anywhere. We don't need your stupid trip, even if it is free."

"There's something about surviving a near-death experience that really brings you closer though, wouldn't you say? I mean, how many times did you two save each other's lives?"

"Probably not as many times as we put each other in danger," Kurt replied swiftly, and Blaine looked at him in shock. "And that's because you attacked us relentlessly this entire trip. It was a miserable experience."

"None of us wants to go on a trip like this again, ever," Rachel assented. "If you want to relive our agony that badly, just watch your creepy video recordings. You can easily see how the vacation degraded from fun to absolutely horrifying over time."

Sue was silent, blinking, then said, "Blaine I asked you a question."

"Don't ignore us!"

"Sue..." Finn stood to his full height and looked down at her. "We really appreciate what you're trying to do, which is get us to voluntarily sign up to try and get killed by you, because you failed the first time. But no, we politely decline. Now if you don't mind, we have an actual vacation to Newport coming up that we'd like to enjoy without you."

Will smiled at the sound of this, until Sue said, "Well now I know where to find you," and walked off.

"Boy you really put your foot in it this time," Santana said to him as she sauntered over, arms crossed.

"Speaking of feet, aren't you going to apologize to me for ruthlessly tripping me on the track earlier?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Guys," Will spoke up before they could start fighting. "Looks like your flight is boarding." They looked out the window to see a real, normal-looking plane waiting for them. "You made it."

"Mr. Schue..." Rachel hugged him, as did Kurt, and then Finn jumped in. Blaine thought about it but it looked too crowded. Santana didn't think about it. "Thank you so much for buying our tickets home. And for everything."

"We're sorry for all the inconvenience," Kurt said, but Will waved it off.

"I'm always happy if I can help you guys, no matter what the issue is. And it means a lot that you guys depended on me." The group hug dissolved and he raised an arm at the plane. "Go, I'll see you guys when I get back. And then we'll get ready for Newport, huh?"

"You have no idea how excited we are for that," Finn told him, and together, the New Directions boarded their flight back home.

* * *

"Nah nah nah nah, wait, back up," Artie said, waving his arms. "You defused a bomb?"

The group was settled around a large table—that was actually several tables pushed together—at Breadstix. The place was near deserted as usual, but full of life with the glee club regulars there.

"I'm not joking, that thing was live!" Sam went on. "Mr. Schue's team-building exercises cannot compare to the amount of teamwork that went on in that room right then. Pretty sure I'm bonded with these guys for life." He threw his arms around Rachel and Kurt.

"I'm sure I'm bonded with people over things I never would've expected, too," Rachel laughed before sharing a faint grimace with Blaine and Santana, who looked away. "But yeah, after the last elimination, things got crazy. Crazier than Bachelor Pad crazy."

"An obstacle course, an escape room, and a quiz-style quadrathlon? I'd say so!" Mike agreed.

"Oh and don't even get me started on the treasure hunt!" Finn got himself started. "We were all exploring this cave and Blaine and Rachel fell off this ledge-"

"What?!"

"-and...well, we can laugh about it now, but Kurt and I seriously thought they died!" Finn cracked up. Tina, Artie and Mike just looked horrified.

"But they didn't!" Kurt said brightly. "In fact it's an actual miracle that nobody ended up severely injured during that whole trip."

"Though Finn did take quite a few spills," Santana mentioned. "And probably hit his head more times than is safe."

"Dude, it sounds like I missed all the fun parts," Puck spoke up. "I would've dominated that obstacle course!"

"The escape room sounded fun," Brittany agreed. "Though I can't believe the Playfair cipher took you guys more than ten minutes, seriously."

"We should do more stuff together like that here in Lima!" Tina suggested. "You know...the non-violent kind. With normal temperature rooms."

"Oh my god guys, another thing, Rachel is _psychic!_" Everyone gasped incredulously at this as Sam launched into another story. Blaine discreetly got up from the table and went outside. "Yeah no, it's no joke! Santana confirmed it, and she's basically a witch, so-"

Outside the air was cooling, a balmy summer evening setting in. Blaine leaned his head back against the building wall, and shortly after heard the front door open and close as someone joined him. "Kurt, I don't-"

"It's me." He opened his eyes to see Quinn standing there. "You seemed upset, and I think I know why."

Blaine watched her, trying to gauge her emotion, but unlike him she was a blank slate. "Why did you lie, that time? Why did you say it was Finn?"

"Because Finn is...the ultimate scapegoat," she said with a bit of a laugh. "I mean think about it, he didn't even know it wasn't actually his fault, he just assumed it was. He messes up all the time. People like you and me..." She pressed her mouth into a straight line. "We don't mess up."

"I think he did know, after a while," Blaine admitted. "He got angry with me, and it felt like it was about something else. I think he knew that I blamed it on him, and he blamed it on me. As he should've."

"It was my fault they got ruined," Quinn said. "I'm the one who knocked over the canoe. All you did was put them in your suitcase." She shrugged. "It was an accident. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"All of that...torture, could've been avoided if we'd just been more careful. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I know a thing or two about wishing I'd been more careful, Blaine," she told him. "Look, you can feel sorry for yourself, but don't feel sorry for Finn. Everyone in there thinks he ruined the tickets and he's still just a goofball because of it." The door opened again, and she put her hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Let this secret stay between us."

She walked back as Kurt rounded the corner, and he smiled uneasily at Blaine's anguished expression. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, let's just...let's go home, and sleep really deeply. I want to forget all about this trip."

* * *

Emma Pillsbury moved her Kleenex box a half inch to the left before she settled down into her seat. It was summer, and school was out, but Will had asked her to keep office hours for guidance counseling just in case any of the glee kids ever needed anything during the summer. She had been against the idea, but Will had asked in the way that it wasn't really negotiable. He would do even the most absurd things for those kids.

Which was why now, Finn Hudson was walking through the door. "It's weird being here during summer..." he said, looking down the empty hallways.

"What can I help you with, Finn?" He took his seat across from her and lowered his backpack that he likely brought with him out of sheer habit.

"Well, lately, that is ever since the trip, I've been having these...recurring nightmares," he reported, seeming surprisingly at ease with his deep-rooted trauma.

"What happens in these nightmares?" Emma asked politely.

"I keep hearing Rachel's voice, calling out my name as she fell down that hole. Or seeing Kurt and Rachel being chased by wolves, only this time my body is...frozen. I see that steel door closing with my friends on the other side." He looked up quizzically. "Is this what separation anxiety feels like?"

"Not...quite. But it does seem like you have some kind of post-traumatic stress about what happened back there. How do you feel during these nightmares?"

"I feel...powerless! I let her out of my reach so many times, I couldn't protect her." Finn sighed. "Rachel said we were all going to need therapy...I guess she was right."

"This isn't therapy so much as...advice. It's just counseling." She folded her hands and put them on the desk, leaning forward. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Blaine when he was in here the other day. Although he...treated it more like a confessional. Anyway, you can't let that trip run your lives." Finn looked up minimally. "What happened was downright awful, like truly Sue-DEFCON 1 level of horrible. But you can't let it control your life anymore, because you're past it now. Don't give her any more power. Just put it all behind you. So you weren't able to protect Rachel sometimes. She's here now, isn't she? That has something to do with you, too.

"Let this experience be something that made you stronger, not weaker. And then, look forward to the things you have coming up. You're going to Newport with the group soon, aren't you?" Finn shrugged. "That'll be exciting! As long as it's not...a total disaster, like the island trip." She didn't want to end it on that dismal note, so she brightly added, "Think positive, and...if you need me for anything, I am here. Also here's this." She slid him a pamphlet that read _"So you went on vacation and now you have PTSD: Sue Edition."_

"Thanks, Ms. Pillsbury," Finn said, taking the brochure. "I feel a lot better already. I'll go over this with Rachel." He stood to leave but hesitated at the door. "While you were there, did you really not have anything...weird happen?"

She raised her shoulders and smiled. "Honestly no, we had a great time! Weirdest part was...probably when you all walked in covered in mud." Finn nodded, and she pumped a handful of GermX into her palm. "Anyway, have a nice day!"

* * *

Rachel sighed deeply and stood back from her suitcase, which was torn apart by wolves and damaged by seawater. It was ruined.

"I had a net loss of over a thousand dollars just in clothes _alone_, to say nothing of all the hair and skincare products that got ruined by the conditions there," Kurt was saying while he took inventory of Rachel's lost belongings.

"How am I going to pack for Newport without a suitcase?" she moaned.

"No idea, but I couldn't be more relieved that we're taking a bus instead of a plane. Never thought I'd say that."

"It almost feels...too soon to be traveling again." Rachel looked down at the hands unsteadily. "I can't get over the horrors we had to endure on that island."

Kurt smiled at her, carefree. "Come on, didn't you think it was the least bit fun?"

Mercedes strolled into the room with a fresh trash bag for clothes and said, "I can't believe I'm hearing that from _you_ of all people! If there were a contest for 'Most Likely to Die' on that trip, I'm pretty sure you and Rachel would be at the top!"

"Okay okay! Tell me your favorite part of the trip," Kurt insisted. "I'll start. My favorite part was...I don't know, Beach Boys karaoke night is up there, but I'd have to say when I went on that walk with Blaine. We found these crazy-looking flowers and...in hindsight, those were probably poisonous, actually..."

"My favorite was..." Mercedes began, sitting on Rachel's bed. "...when you guys played volleyball."

"But, you just watched."

"Exactly," she laughed. "No, it really did look like you guys were having a great time. I liked seeing everyone having fun." She turned to Rachel, who looked deep in thought.

"My favorite part...was this one morning I woke up. I was still jet-lagged and it was dark outside, but I woke Finn up and we went outside on the beach and watched the sunrise." She beamed in recollection. "Then we went back to sleep because it was so early."

"Wow, that's romantic AF..." Mercedes said.

"See? Sounds like you had a great time!" Kurt enthused. "And you never would've had a moment like that if you hadn't gone on that trip. No matter how awful it was, something good came out of it, right?"

Rachel shook her head, still smiling. "I guess you're right." She looked at them both and opened her mouth, but Mercedes cut her off with, "If you're going to say something about the 'power of friendship' I straight-up don't want to hear it."

"Fine then, just- thank you guys. I don't think I could've survived it without you." She spread her arms, and Kurt and Mercedes stood and hugged her. "Literally though."

**~ Fin ~**

**A/N: The end! Thank you guys for reading all the way through, I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts and have a great day!**


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